A Matter of Convenience
by muhnemma
Summary: In a world where Elissa Cousland was not destined to be the Hero of Ferelden, she enters into an arranged marriage with Loghain Mac Tir. Snapshots of their life together.
1. The First Morning

Elissa Cousland was not a woman to lie abed when there was work to be done. Usually she was up just after the servants, hurrying to squeeze in an hour of practice at the archery butts before the true work of the day began. There was an endless round of tasks to complete: helping her father with the daily running of the teyrnir, keeping her sword skills sharp with Fergus and attending the painfully dull salons her mother held. If she didn't get up with the sun she would have no time to herself at all.

This morning was different. She felt languorous and indolent, unwilling to give up her soft mattress and warm bed sheets. The drapes hadn't been closed properly and a shaft of sunlight fell over her bare stomach, warming her skin pleasantly. Something niggled at the edge of her awareness, a sense that things weren't quite as they should be. She pushed the feeling away to be examined later. Whatever was wrong, it could wait until after breakfast.

She stretched slowly, luxuriously, and froze as her fingers brushed against bare skin. Snatching her hand back, she held it against her chest and felt the wild thumping of her heart. Shocked, she hesitated only a second before reaching under the bed, frantically groping for the dagger that was usually hidden there. Her scrabbling fingers found nothing. _Sword, _she thought. Even when she was sleeping she always kept it nearby in case of an emergency. She had already thrown herself out of bed to search for it when her sleep muddled mind finally caught up.

This was not her room; this was not even her home. She was miles away from Highever and her family, newly married to a man she knew only through reputation. She was no longer Lady Elissa Cousland; she was Teyrna Elissa Mac Tir.

Holding her trembling hands at her side, she tried to breathe evenly. Silently she cursed her own stupidity. She had drunk a little too much wine the night before to calm her nerves, and now she was paying the price with a sluggish mind. As her initial fear wore off she began to shiver. It had been warm enough in bed, but standing naked on cold flagstones raised goose bumps along her arms and legs.

She slipped back into bed, forcibly pushing away the sudden and insane temptation to warm her cold feet on her new husband. She glanced at Loghain from the corner of her eyes, half expecting to find him awake and watching her antics with a confused frown. His eyes were still shut, his breathing deep and even. Thankfully he had missed her display.

This, Elissa realised, was an excellent opportunity. She had known Loghain only a week before their wedding. They had met only in the main hall for meal times, where the noisy gossip from the castle's inhabitants made sure there was little chance to get to know each other. There had been no opportunity to study him. He was constantly alert, almost unnervingly so, and there was only so much she could learn from snatching glances through lowered eyelashes.

His face was half hidden by a pillow but his profile, with its crooked nose, was unmistakeably Loghain's. Despite his age the muscles of his back and arms were still hard. Clearly his role as the king's Councilor did not involve much sitting behind a desk. His skin was covered with a map of scars, hardly surprising considering his past. The uprising against the Orlesians was not history to Elissa. Her father had fought in the battles and she had grown up listening to his war stories. The tales were a living, breathing part of her family.

Realising that he was as naked as she was, Elissa blushed deeply. She had never been bashful around men before. From childhood she had been trained in combat alongside her brother and the household squires. She never would have learned to fight if she had been too timid to touch them. Not only had she been taught armed combat, she had learned how to defend herself when there was no weapon close at hand. She had thrown and received punches, grappled with boys a head taller than her and sent them tumbling into the dust.

This was different. She had certainly never taken any of the squires as a lover. During lessons they might attempt to throw her to the ground and touch their swords to her throat, but the moment they donned formal attire they treated her as a squire should a teyrn's daughter. She had never been this intimate with _any _man before. No one at Highever had been her social equal. In the whole kingdom the only marriageable man on an equal footing with her was Loghain. That was a large part of the reason she had accepted his offer when her parents informed her of it.

As if sensing her thoughts, he stirred and turned to face her. Elissa's lips twitched as she noticed that he frowned even in his sleep. She reached out to trace the line between his eyes but at the last moment pulled back, suddenly uncertain. Ridiculous. She was unclothed and sharing a bed with him, had lost her virginity to him only hours ago. Yet the small gesture somehow seemed too intimate. She had the feeling that it might be unwelcome, or at the very least unexpected, if he woke suddenly.

Folding her hands in her lap to keep them from wandering, she turned her attention to his – _their _– bedchamber. It was much as she had expected: simple. The furniture was not intricately decorated but well made. Only two things seemed out of place: a vase of wildflowers and an ornate tapestry depicting a scene she was certain came from a popular romantic legend. They seemed so out of character for such an unromantic man. Then again, it wasn't the first time Loghain had surprised her. Last night at the wedding banquet she had been served a plate of her favourite food, an Orlesian dish of delicately spiced chicken. She had _never _expected to find anything Orlesian in the Mac Tir household, and indeed there had been no other food in the room that was not staunchly Ferelden.

Perhaps, she thought with dawning realisation, the Orlesian cuisine, like the flowers and tapestry, were not meant for Loghain's pleasure. Perhaps they were intended to put a nervous young bride at ease.

"You're smiling," said Loghain.

Elissa started. There had been no sign that he was stirring. When she looked at him there was none of the bleariness of lingering sleep. He was wide awake and studying her closely.

"I am," she agreed mildly. "Is there a reason why I should not?"

"I had thought-" he stopped, seemed to reconsider, and instead said, "I am hardly an ideal husband for a young woman."

Her eyes widened in surprise. This was not how she had expected her new husband to greet her the morning after their wedding. She had known Loghain long enough to realise that he didn't sugar-coat his words, but his bluntness still caught her off guard from time to time. Collecting herself she said, "You'll forgive me for believing that I am a better judge of what young women consider ideal."

He raised his eyebrows. "I half expected that you would wish to return to Highever and plead with your parents to break the union."

"Perhaps it escaped your notice," she began, narrowing her eyes, "but I was not dragged here kicking and screaming by my mother. This marriage was my choice. True, it was made for practical rather than romantic reasons, but it doesn't follow that I must be unhappy. I hope you agree."

He watched her silently for a moment, a flicker of something – amusement? relief? – in his eyes. "I do," he said finally.

"Good," she said briskly. "Now that we're in agreement, perhaps we can get on with the day?"

This time there was a smile, small but unmistakeable, as he rose from the bed to fetch his clothes.

They dressed in silence, Elissa keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. She told herself it was ridiculous to be shy: Loghain was now her husband, they had spent the night together. She should be able to watch him dress without turning the colour of a beetroot. If she hadn't been so annoyed with the sudden, uncharacteristic attack of timidity she would have reasoned that her nervousness was not unfounded. For all that they were married, they were still practically strangers. While Loghain had been married before and had surely had lovers, this was entirely new to her.

Loghain seemed oblivious to her fumbling fingers and pink cheeks. His silence as he dressed was not awkward but thoughtful. Had Elissa not been studying the floor so intently, she would have seen the contemplative set of his brow and wondered what thoughts were forming behind those sharp eyes.

"You are with my seneschal this morning?" asked Loghain as he pulled on his boots.

Elissa nodded, relieved to be able to look directly at him again. She would be expected to run Gwaren and the household when Loghain returned to Denerim. As he would be occupied attending to the business of the teyrnir, the task of teaching her how to do this had fallen to the seneschal. It would not be difficult: she had been trained for it all her life. "Yes. He wants to show me the household accounts today."

"Good," he grunted. "I will be busy all morning, but perhaps you would like to join me this afternoon for a ride? It won't do any harm for you to become acquainted with the land. It is your new home." He watched her carefully, as if expecting the realisation that Gwaren was now her home would unleash a previously suppressed torrent of tears.

Instead she inclined her head and offered him a broad smile. "I would like that."

"Until this afternoon then," he said. Turning to leave, he was stopped by Elissa's hand on his arm. She placed her hand on his cheek and pressed her lips against his in a brief kiss. Before he had a chance to do more than blink in surprise, she had stepped away to smile up into his face.

"Until this afternoon," she agreed cheerfully, and brushed past him through the door without another word. She couldn't quite believe she had just done that. She almost hadn't, certain that he would pull away or push her from him. For the third time that morning she felt her cheeks heat up, but it was worth it for the knowledge that she had managed to shock Loghain into silence, even if only for a few seconds.


	2. The New Teyrna's Test

Elissa clenched her fists beneath the head table, willing the dull throb behind her eyes to stop. She stared hard at the door, as if she could make Loghain appear through sheer force of will. It was the tangled and vicious politics of his domain that had given her such a ferocious headache. She knew it was her domain now as well, but they had only been married a fortnight. That was nowhere near enough time to absorb the goings on of the minor nobility, their tangled relationships, the ongoing feuds and petty squabbles. As Loghain had hurried away in answer to an urgent message from the edge of his borders, Elissa had no choice but to handle their affairs as best she could.

The cause of her problems was sitting next to her, trembling. Viola was a girl of sixteen and already a rare beauty, with delicate features framed by silvery blonde hair. She was also of a highly nervous disposition, apt to shriek and shake if a servant dropped a platter nearby. Elissa could hardly blame her. Her parents, wealthy banns, had fallen to sickness several years ago. Since then she had been pushed from place to place until she had finally come to Gwaren as Loghain's ward a few months before.

Viola herself was not the problem. That morning Bann Dolan, a minor man in both wealth and consequence, had arrived at the castle with a contract he claimed entitled him to marry Viola. Supposedly it had been signed by her parents long before their death, but Elissa was sceptical. The match was beneath the girl in every way. To begin with, when the contract was made he wasn't a bann and there was very little hope of him ever inheriting the title. If not for the unexpected death of his brother, Dolan would have spent his life as an insignificant second son. Even now he could offer Viola nothing.

There was little Elissa could do about him. No matter how strong her suspicions, she couldn't dismiss the contract out of hand without first consulting Loghain. As he was currently away, Dolan could either wait for his return or go home empty handed. She had told him as much, but still he had persisted in pestering her about the contract throughout the day.

Now that the evening meal was over and the hall was beginning to clear, she looked up to see him approaching her yet again. She grumbled under her breath and cast a sidelong look at Viola, whose wide eyed apprehension told Elissa she too had spotted him. While Dolan was an annoyance to Elissa, in Viola he seemed to inspire fear.

Bending her head to Viola's she murmured, "Perhaps you would care to return to your room for a while? You don't look quite well; the quiet might do you good."

Viola gave her a look of open gratitude. "Thank you," she mumbled, dipping into a brief curtsey before hurrying away.

"My Lady," said Dolan, arriving in front of the table and bowing deeply. "Is Lady Viola ill?" he asked, eyes following the girl as she hurried from the room.

"She is quite well, Bann Dolan, only weary from a long day." _As am I_, she resisted the temptation to add.

"I am glad to hear that. May I have a moment of your time, my lady?"

"That depends. Is this about your contract?" she asked, trying to keep the weariness out of her voice.

"Yes, I-"

"We have already discussed this," she interrupted. "There is nothing more I can do for you. I am afraid you will have to wait for my husband's return."

"I realise that every respect must be paid to Teyrn Loghain, and I assure you-"

She cut him short with an imperious wave of her hand. "It is not only a matter of respect," she said impatiently. "Lady Viola is _his _ward and by law only he can relinquish her into your hands. I repeat that you must wait for his return before you can pursue the matter."

"I understand, my lady, it is only that my time here is so short. I am eager to complete this business before I have to leave."

She stared at him incredulously. "Teyrn Loghain returns tomorrow morning. I trust your time is not so short that you cannot wait that long."

Dolan hesitated for a moment, mouth slightly ajar, clearly trying to come up with yet another reason why she should fulfil his contract. Apparently he had exhausted his mental resources for the day because he merely nodded and said with resignation, "No, my lady, it is not. If it pleases you, I will retire for the night."

"As you please, Bann Dolan," she replied, relieved that he was giving up so easily. He bowed and made his exit, and it was only when he had disappeared from sight that Elissa belatedly hoped that he would not run into Viola on the stairs. With any luck she had made it to her room by now; she had wished to hide from him and would not have dawdled.

Elissa cast around the room until her eyes fell on Seneschal Nevan. She smiled and beckoned him over. Over the past couple of weeks she had grown to like Nevan. He had acted as seneschal for many years now and he performed his job admirably. It was not only his competence she admired but his honesty. Some seneschals abused their position, supplementing their wages by sneaking coin from a household's coffers.

"What do you think of Bann Dolan's contract?" she asked abruptly as he arrived beside her.

Thankfully he had known her just long enough to learn that she appreciated blunt, even brutal, honesty. "I think it a clever forgery, my lady," he said without preamble. "I can see no reason why her parents would agree to a match so beneath her."

"We're of a mind, Nevan."

"I venture to suggest that he won't wait for Teyrn Loghain to return on the morrow."

"Indeed not. Things would go badly for him if the contract turned out to be false. I'm amazed that he even attempted it."

Nevan opened his mouth but snapped it shut again quickly, clearly thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. Elissa caught the gesture and looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "You have an opinion on the matter?"

He shifted awkwardly. "It is well known that there is a new teyrna at Gwaren. Perhaps he thought to take advantage of your inexperience."

She resisted the sudden urge to grimace, managing to turn the expression into a small frown. "I'm afraid I must agree," she said neutrally.

She lapsed into silence. Nevan had confirmed her suspicions. The timing of Dolan's arrival was too convenient. Perhaps he had called on some connections and made it necessary for Loghain to leave; at the very least he had waited and watched carefully for an opportunity like this. Forging a contract to steal away an heiress was a risky business, particularly when that heiress was the ward of a man so close to the throne. Elissa was willing to bet a large stack of gold that he would sneak out of the castle during the night. He probably planned to seize Viola and take her back to his lands by force. It certainly wasn't uncommon for minor nobles to kidnap young women for marriages that would improve their situations. Dolan's scheme, however, would be quickly abandoned when he saw the number of guards posted outside her bedchamber tonight. He did not have the forces, or the stupidity, to attempt an outright assault.

Elissa scowled down at the table, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair in a way that would have made her mother scowl. She wanted Dolan caught and punished, and not just for the distress he had caused Viola. It wouldn't be long before Loghain returned to Denerim, leaving her to rule the teyrnir in his stead. If word got out that Dolan had attempted to pull the wool over her eyes and escaped unscathed, Maker knew how many would want to try their luck. Managing such extensive lands would be difficult enough without a stream of hoaxers.

She needed to underline her new authority and bringing Dolan to justice was the perfect way to do it. It would send a message to all those who believed that the teyrna's age meant that she was vulnerable.

But how to do it? There were currently no legal experts in the castle, no one who could say for certain that the contract was false. Dolan would almost certainly destroy it the moment he was free for fear of Loghain pursuing the matter. The only way Elissa could see was to catch him in the act of attempting to remove Viola from the castle. It would be a simple matter of making sure no one guarded her door that night. Dolan, hardly able to believe his good fortune, would be able to walk straight in and take her. After that all that remained was to apprehend him at the castle gates. There would be no refuting such evidence, and the crime would be great enough to ensure the loss of his title and lands.

The flaw in this plan was, of course, Viola. She was far too timid; Elissa could not put her through such strain. If she bore even a passing resemblance to Viola she could take her place and allow herself to be kidnapped by Dolan, but it was no good. With her dark hair and short stature, she looked nothing like the willowy and light Viola. Even a man working under the knowledge that he would shortly be pursued by the teyrna's guards would not be in such a hurry that he would fail to notice the difference.

It occurred to her suddenly that she was being unusually dense. They were not, after all, the only two women in the castle.

"There's a girl who works in the kitchens," she murmured, laying a hand on Nevan's wrist to draw his attention back to her . "I think she's new. Tall girl with blonde hair, of an age with Lady Viola."

He paused for a moment, clearly surprised by the abrupt change of topic. "Rosie?" he ventured.

"Rosie!" she exclaimed in quiet recognition. "Please find her and ask her to attend on me in my chamber."

"My lady, are you certain?" he asked, mild incredulity seeping into his voice. "She is not trained as a serving girl."

"I had a different job in mind for her."

"Does this have something to do with Bann Dolan?" he asked hesitantly.

"Perceptive of you," she grinned. "Coincidentally, could you see to it that a dozen guards meet me at the gates? Make sure they stay out of sight."

"I'll see to it immediately," he responded, trying and largely failing to smother his own smile.

* * *

An hour later and almost everything was prepared. She had sent a servant to request (loudly, for the benefit of any of Dolan's men who might be nearby) Viola's presence for the evening. Once she arrived Elissa had explained to her that there would be a slight change in their normal routine: Viola would spend the night in Elissa and Loghain's study, which was only accessible through their bedchamber. Deciding it was best not to alarm her with the suspicion that Dolan might attempt to kidnap her, Elissa had not explained the sudden change of plan and hoped that Viola would assume it was a strange whim. Nevan had sent a girl with a discrete note to inform her that the guards were stationed as she had ordered.

All that remained was to secure the help of the girl standing nervously in front of her. Rosie, Elissa was relieved to see, was just as she had remembered her. Her hair was a little darker than Viola's and she was not quite as slender, but in the dim light she could easily pass for her.

She smiled welcomingly and nodded at the chair next to her. "Please, Rosie, take a seat."

Rosie stared at her with blank incomprehension for a moment. Servants were not asked to sit with teyrnas as equals. Then she seemed to remember herself and hesitantly sat in the chair Elissa had indicated, staring at her as if she expected a reprimand.

Elissa waited until she settled and then, still smiling, began."I would ask you to perform a service for me, Rosie. This certainly falls outside the bounds of your normal duties so I cannot order you to do it, but you will be richly rewarded if you choose to."

Curiosity piqued, the girl seemed to forget some of her nervousness and leaned slightly closer. "What is it? My lady," she added belatedly.

"What I tell you must be kept secret, Rosie," said Elissa, dropping her voice confidentially.

"Of course, my lady," she replied in the same hushed tone.

"I believe that Bann Dolan plans to kidnap Lady Viola tonight. Now, I could post guards near her door and in all likelihood he would abandon his scheme. I would prefer, however, to catch him in the act so that he can be punished. That is where I need your help."

"Me? What can I do?"

"He needs to be caught attempting to remove Lady Viola from the castle. He wouldn't succeed – I already have guards standing by waiting to apprehend him and his men. Lady Viola, however, is... delicate. I don't believe she could carry out her part. But if someone impersonated her Bann Dolan might still carry out his plan and incriminate himself."

"You want _me _to pretend to be the Lady Viola?" asked Rosie, voice rising with slight panic. "You want to let the Bann to take me away?"

"I wouldn't let him take you away, Rosie. I would stop him before he could leave," said Elissa quickly, glancing at the door to the study and hoping they had not woken Viola. "I know I ask a lot of you. In return for this service you would receive ten gold sovereigns and a guarantee that there will always be a position for you in the castle."

Rosie flopped against the back of the chair, eyes wide. Ten sovereigns was more money than she had seen in her life, Elissa guessed. With that amount she didn't really need a guaranteed position in the castle. If she chose to, she could use the money to enter into a trade and begin to make a comfortable life for herself.

"Alright," she finally said, a little breathlessly. "I'll do it. My lady," she added again, wincing at her own forgetfulness.

"Thank you, Rosie!" cried Elissa, springing to her feet. Rosie scrambled to rise after her, certain that she wasn't allowed to remain seated while the teyrna was standing. For the moment Elissa was barely conscious of her, too busy retrieving the dress that Viola had recently discarded. Thankfully she had accepted Elissa's explanation that it needed to be hung properly to avoid becoming crumpled on the study floor. With any luck she would never learn of its role in tonight's deception.

"I'm to wear _that_?" asked Rosie as Elissa turned back to her, holding out the dress expectantly.

"If our plan is to work you must dress like Lady Viola."

"Okay," she said doubtfully. "But I've never had to lace up anything like that before."

"I will help you, of course," smiled Elissa.

Together, they managed to get Rosie into the dress. It was something of a struggle, particularly as they discovered that it was slightly too small for her frame, but with perseverance they succeeded. Once it was on, Elissa told her it was time to return to Viola's room for the night. She reminded her to always keep her hood pulled low around her face and to say as little as possible to Bann Dolan. She had two servants escort Rosie to the bedchamber, fearful that Dolan might attempt to take her in the corridor.

Alone again, Elissa opened her chest and rummaged through the layers of silk and velvet until her fingers brushed leather. Grinning, she hauled her armour out into the open. It felt like she hadn't worn it in a lifetime; in a way, she supposed that was true. The last time she had donned it was in the courtyard at Highever for a friendly spar with Fergus. But there was no time for reminiscing now. Shaking herself out of her memories, she hurriedly pulled on the armour before equipping herself with sword and dagger.

Picking up a candle, she opened the door a crack and peeked outside. Seeing that the corridor was deserted, she shut and locked her door and hurried along to the library. Had anyone seen her, dressed head to toe in leather armour and creeping so furtively only to reach the library, they would not have been able to fathom it. But Elissa had sound reasons. Loghain had told her that the creator of the castle, for reasons best known to himself, had built a hidden passage leading from that room to the courtyard. If it really did exist, it would make her job tonight much easier. It would be impossible to walk through the castle in full armour without drawing attention and alerting Dolan that something was wrong. The passage would solve that problem for her.

Inside the library she made straight for a large tapestry and flipped back the corner, relieved to see that Loghain hadn't been playing a joke on her and there really was a door. It took some effort to pull back the heavy bolt, but eventually she succeeded and slipped inside the passage. It was dank and dark, her small candle throwing only a small pool of light in front of her. Thankfully it was also short. She soon came up against another door and, after another struggle with a bolt, emerged into the cool, clean air of the courtyard.

The guards were exactly where Nevan had said they would be. Her orders to them were brief: for the time being stay silent and hidden, and when she ordered it detain Dolan and his men. If for some reason it came to a fight, do everything in their power to protect Rosie.

They didn't have to wait long before the kitchen door opened and a small group of men emerged. If Elissa hadn't been relieved that her plan was folding out so well, she would have been infuriated by Dolan's audacity. He could barely have waited before abducting Rosie, seemed completely unconcerned about being apprehended. Ignoring that, Elissa focused her attention on Rosie. Dolan had covered her fine dress with a tattered and dirty robe. Frowning, she saw that her hands had been secured behind her back with a length of rope. Her face was obscured by a hood, but Elissa guessed from the muffled cries she could hear that she had been gagged.

Furious at her treatment and eager to put an end to it, Elissa turned her eyes on Dolan's men. He was accompanied by five guards. They were armed but nowhere near as well as the Gwaren men, and they were quite clearly outnumbered. She would be shocked if they engaged in a fight when they were so obviously at a disadvantage.

Elissa emerged from her hiding place, flanked by her guards.

"Bann Dolan!" she called amiably. "An odd time of night to leave us. Is that Lady Viola you have there?"

Dolan froze in his tracks and visibly tightened his grip on Rosie. "I am taking what is mine by contract," he said cautiously.

"We both know that piece of paper is worthless," she said, straining to keep her voice light and reasonable. "If the contract was valid you would not be smuggling my husband's ward out of our home under cover of night."

"I feared your husband would not listen to reason."

"Enough of your excuses," she said forcefully. "Will you surrender peacefully or must we take you by force?"

Instead of answering, Dolan whistled sharply. Before Elissa had chance to wonder at this strange response, one of her men cried a warning and she whipped around to see two armoured men charging through the gates on horseback, heading straight for them. At the same time the guards surrounding Dolan charged them from the front.

Elissa's upper lip drew back in disgust. Dolan might have evened the numbers slightly and now had the advantage of two men fighting on horseback, but there was still no doubt in her mind that her guards would triumph. They were too well trained and equipped. This was merely a diversion: Dolan was sacrificing his men so that he might escape with his prize.

He was already slipping away, trying to edge around the clashing guards to reach the gate. Cursing, Elissa drew her sword and weaved her way through the fight. She made her way to the gate, hoping to reach it before Dolan and cut off his escape. Her goal was within sight when a horse blocked her way. She ducked as its rider flailed his sword wildly at her, and the blade passed narrowly over her head. She pressed forward, secure in the knowledge that one of her guards would easily dispatch a man of so little skill. Breaking through the brawl, she skidded to a half in front of the gate and turned to see if she had made it before Dolan. She had: he was a few paces away, one hand keeping a firm grip on Rosie while the other hovered over his sword hilt.

"Stop this now, Dolan," she ordered in a steady voice. "I will not let you pass."

With the fight at his back, he had no choice but to go through her to escape. He looked at her desperately and she knew he was weighing up his rapidly diminishing options. If he drew his sword against her, even if it never touched her, it would be a crime that Loghain would never forgive. He would be hunted across the kingdom. But if he relinquished the woman he thought was Viola, he had risked all for nothing.

His face tightened with frustration. With a snarl, he pushed Rosie at Elissa with as much strength as he could muster. Elissa caught her but lost balance and they both went sprawling into the mud, Rosie's weight landing fully on top of her and knocking the air out of her lungs. Dolan saw his opportunity and sprinted for freedom, and Elissa heard the sound of his footsteps running past where she lay.

Gasping, Elissa pushed them both upright again. "Are you alright?" she asked, pulling off Rosie's hood to yank away her gag.

Rosie nodded wordlessly, eyes wild.

She pointed. "Can you get to that wall?" Another nod from Rosie and Elissa continued, "Sit with your back to it and stay out of the fight. My men will protect you. Now I must go after him."

Elissa regained her feet and raced after Dolan. He had a head start, but her light armour gave her greater freedom of movement. She sheathed her sword in favour of her dagger, much easier to wield when running. They raced down the path leading away from the castle, Elissa quickly gaining ground on Dolan. Although the gap between them rapidly closed, she couldn't quite reach him. He remained tantalisingly just out of her grasp. Her energy was beginning to flag, and if she didn't catch him soon they would be too far away for the guards to hear if she called for help.

Gritting her teeth, she summoned a final burst of energy and sprinted forwards, managing to tangle a hand in a small piece of shirt that stuck out from beneath his armour. Seeing her opportunity, she leaped and threw her arms around his shoulders, hoping the added weight would send him falling to the ground. He faltered but somehow regained his balance, and immediately began trying to buck her off. She clung on grimly, determined not to give him another chance to get away. She altered her grip on her dagger and, raising it as high as she could, brought the pommel crashing down on Dolan's head.

Unconscious, he fell. Unfortunately for Elissa, he toppled backwards.

For the second time that night she found herself lying in the mud, pinned down by the weight of another body. This time, drained by the chase and struggle, she lacked the energy to push it off. She made a half hearted attempt to wriggle away but fell back, exhausted, when she heard hoof beats approaching. _Good_, she thought wearily. _Perhaps Nevan has come looking for me. _

But it wasn't Nevan's voice that rang out with an unmistakable air of command.

"What is going on here?" demanded Loghain. Elissa, startled, summoned the energy to lift her head just far enough over Dolan's shoulder to see Loghain, flanked by his guards, staring down at her. In the darkness it took him a moment to recognise her face, but when he did his eyes flew wide open. "_Elissa?"_ he said incredulously.

Satisfied that help was on its way, she allowed her head to flop back down to the ground. She heard rather than saw him hurriedly dismount, and shortly afterwards his worried face came into view as he dropped to his knees beside her. Unceremoniously shoving Dolan out of the way, he slid his arm under her shoulders and eased her into a sitting position. "Are you hurt?" he asked, raking his eyes over her for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," she said, attempting to sound reassuring. "Just tired."

"If you're certain," he said dubiously. "Who is that?" he asked, jerking his head in Dolan's direction.

"Bann Dolan. You might want to tell your men to secure him."

He stared at her only briefly before gesturing a couple of his guards over and ordering them to take Dolan back to the castle. "Perhaps you would care to tell me why that was necessary," he said when they had set out.

"Perhaps you would care to help me into a more dignified position first."

Lips twitching, Loghain helped her back onto her feet and led her over to his horse. She felt him watching her closely as she mounted, presumably looking for any sign that she would falter or slip. Once she was settled, she was surprised to feel him haul himself up behind her, and his arms come to rest around her waist. She opened her mouth to protest: she hadn't needed anyone to support her on a horse since the days when she was first learning how to ride. Then she realised the alternative was probably to walk back to the castle, and as she had no desire to do that she chose to remain silent.

"Is this suitably dignified?" he asked as they set off at a gentle pace.

"It will do."

"Now may we return to the matter of why I returned home to find you trapped beneath an unconscious bann?"

She relayed the story of Dolan's arrival, the false marriage contract and her plan to trap him, and finished with the confrontation at the castle gates, Dolan's flight and her pursuit of him. By the time she finished she could almost feel Loghain's eyes boring into the top of her head.

"Well thank the Maker you were here to chase down the villain and beat him unconscious," he said drily. "We wouldn't want to strain that garrison of guards I employ."

She waved a hand, dismissing the comment, and said, "Never mind that. What about _you_? I didn't expect you back until the morning."

"There was nothing there worth calling me out for. Clearly Dolan had something to do with calling me away needlessly." Elissa nodded in silent gratification of the confirmation of her suspicions, and Loghain continued, "I thought that someone might want to take advantage of my absence here."

"And you were worried that I couldn't handle it?" she suggested.

A long pause and then Loghain murmured, "Clearly I was wrong."

The words were quiet, and it was quite possible that she had imagined them, but Elissa thought there was a distinct possibility that she had impressed Loghain at least a little. Smirking, she relaxed against his chest and allowed herself to think that, between foiling a villainous bann and winning approval from a man famously sparse with his praise, she had acquitted herself quite well.


	3. The Ceremony

The sound of clattering hooves drifted through the bedchamber window. Another group arriving at the castle, and from the many mingled voices that reached her ears Elissa guessed it was a large one. They sounded happy, the talking interspersed with bursts of laughter, but it only made her shoulders knot with tension. Soon she would appear in front of these strangers as their teyrna, and one by one they would drop to their knees before her and declare their loyalty. That was the plan, anyway. She couldn't quite shake the fear that they would reject her and refuse to swear their oaths.

She ran her hands over the silken bodice of her gown, wondering whether she should discard it for another one. She really shouldn't. Dresses this elaborate required another's help to put on, and she didn't want to call back the servant again. The poor girl looked harried enough without her indecisive mistress making life more difficult. Everyone had spent the day in a flurry of preparation, hurrying to get the castle ready in time for tonight's ceremony.

To keep her trembling fingers busy she continued to fiddle with the fabric, all the while cursing this sudden and uncharacteristic bout of uncertainty. There really was no need to be nervous. She was used to official ceremonies, having taken part in them all her life. Even in spite of her attempts to deny it, she knew tonight was different. Those occasions had been presided over by the teyrn and teyrna of Highever, and Elissa was accorded automatic respect because she was their daughter. Here she had yet to prove herself.

Taking a seat in front of the mirror, she studied her reflection with a critical eye. She had agonised over every aspect of her appearance, and not out of simple vanity. She had left her hair loose as queens often did at their coronations. Her gown was crimson, a colour that had always complimented her. It was a bold choice, but she had made her selection carefully. Not many could afford red silk. It underlined her power and prosperity without being ostentatious. On her head she wore the ultimate symbol of her authority: her coronet.

There was movement behind her in the mirror, and she was forced to conceal a small start of surprise as Loghain appeared at her shoulder. She was not used to him moving so quietly. Apart from when they retired to their private rooms in the evening, he was very rarely out of armour. Tonight he had set it aside in favour of a stiff white tunic and black breeches. Even important ceremonies could not tempt him to wear anything more elaborate. Concealing a smile, she thought that he had probably dressed in similar clothes for his daughter's wedding and coronation.

"How do I look?" she asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Immediately she wished she could snatch the words back. A stilted compliment from Loghain would do nothing to calm the unpleasant fluttering in her stomach.

He regarded her seriously for a moment before replying, "Like a teyrna."

She turned to face him properly, beaming up into his face. She had not expected him to seize upon the one thing that would make her feel better. "Thank you," she said warmly.

"It's only the truth."

"Knowing that you truly believe that is what I find so comforting."

He returned her smile briefly before saying, "Before we go, I have something for you. A messenger from Highever arrived with this."

Elissa was on her feet the moment she heard "Highever". She was expecting a letter but the sheaf of paper Loghain produced was far too large for that. A quick examination revealed that there was not just one letter but several. Of course her family couldn't condense everything into one missive: once Fergus found out their parents were writing he would want to have his own say, and Nan would certainly not allow any of them to leave her out.

Loghain shifted almost uncomfortably and asked, "Would you like to be left alone?"

Her fingers itched to break the seals and begin reading, but instead she set the letters aside for later. Their guests were expecting them and they should not be kept waiting. She shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "We have a ceremony to attend."

In a strangely formal gesture he offered her his arm. She took it, grateful for a steadying presence. They made their way downstairs through strangely deserted corridors. The castle still hummed with activity but it was largely concealed, confined to the kitchen and the rooms where servants laid out bedrolls for the evening.

The hall was packed full of people, even more crowded than it had been during their wedding feast. They fell silent as Elissa and Loghain appeared in the doorway, parting to let them walk to the two great wooden chairs on the dais. While Elissa took her seat, Loghain remained standing by her side. His empty chair symbolised his absence from the teyrnir and his firm stance beside her the absolute trust he placed in her to rule it in his stead.

"Lords and ladies," he began, voice ringing clear in the absolute silence of the room, "I present Lady Elissa Mac Tir, the new teyrna of Gwaren."

At the pronouncement a woman approached the dais and dropped to one knee, repeating the words of the ancient oath. When she rose another took her place, and after him another, until everyone assembled had pledged their loyalty. They swore to acknowledge her authority as teyrna and her right to govern in the teyrn's absence, whether it be temporary or permanent. Afterwards, Elissa rose and made her own promise. "I will always endeavour to be worthy of your loyalty, and to govern with wisdom and fairness."

A round of polite applause, intermingled with a few whoops and cries, greeted her words. The oaths made, Loghain gave an order for the feast to begin. As they took their seats at the head table, servants arrived with great platters of steaming food. Elissa's stomach gave an embarrassingly loud snarl. Nerves had prevented her from eating all day, and now that the ceremony was over she was suddenly famished. She was suddenly grateful for Loghain's preferences when it came to food. At any other table the dishes would have been chosen to impress the guests, but he always ordered hearty meals. A mouth watering smell sent her reaching for a beef stew, and she ladled it onto her plate with as much restraint as she could muster. Once she had eaten enough to take the edge off her hunger, she leaned back in her chair and asked quietly, "How do you think it went?"

"It couldn't have gone better."

She smiled. "Truly?"

"Truly."

After everyone had eaten their fill and the empty plates had been cleared away, the mood became relaxed as people took the opportunity to speak with rarely seen friends. Elissa and Loghain separated to work their way around the room. She went from person to person, thanking them for their attendance and graciously accepting their compliments. Some seized the opportunity as a chance to air long held grudges or ambitions in the hope that Elissa could help them reach a satisfactory conclusion. At any other time she would have found it an annoyance, but tonight she was pleased that they were coming to her with their problems rather than Loghain.

There was only was person she wished to avoid, but unfortunately he seemed intent on talking to her. She suppressed a small shudder as Howe approached her. She had taken an almost irrational dislike to him as a child and had never quite been able to rid herself of it. Unreasonable prejudices aside, he was an old friend and comrade of her father's, not to mention an arl in his own right, and she would treat him with due respect. Even so, she couldn't help the way her flesh crawled as he took her hand and brushed his lips against it.

"Elissa," he greeted warmly. "It has been years since we last met. Perhaps you don't remember me?"

"Indeed I do, Arl Howe."

He put his hands behind his back and smirked, and Elissa knew he was preparing to pull something embarrassing from his memory. "The last time I visited Highever you were half the size and hounding your brother with a wooden sword. You are quite changed, I see. You have grown into a lovely young woman."

Elissa was spared the pain of having to make a bumbling reply by Loghain's appearance at her shoulder. "Her skill with a sword has improved, I promise you."

Howe raised an eyebrow, his smile taking on a sarcastic edge. "Is that so?"

"I assume you've heard of Bann Dolan's disgrace? Elissa apprehended him personally."

"How commendable. I've always thought Elissa's talents to be rather... unique."

The tone of his voice could leave her in no doubt that this was not intended as a compliment. Women could serve in the army and act as guards in cities and castles, but they were in the minority and looked down on by men such as Howe. Even her mother, a battle maiden in youth, disapproved of Elissa's martial training when it seemed to stand in the way of her finding a husband. A sharp retort had almost tumbled from her tongue before she could stop it, but she managed to contain herself. It was not wise to insult guests at important ceremonies, no matter how much she wished to. Instead she smiled sanguinely and excused herself, pleading the need to attend to her other guests.

Alone, she scanned the room, surprised to see it was almost empty. Most people had left, either to return to their homes or to find a place to sleep in the castle. Apart from Loghain and Howe there was only a small group of men tucked away in a corner, drinking and laughing. The conversation with Howe had soured her evening, and she had no desire to mingle with her increasingly drunk guests. Instead she slipped outside quietly, foregoing her cloak despite the chill in the air for fear of being discovered. Almost without thinking, her feet took her in the direction of the garden.

The discovery of the garden had been a complete surprise. Ruled by such a no nonsense man, she hadn't expected the castle to have much in the way of decoration. For the most part it didn't, but the garden was an exception. It was intimate, separated from the rest of the grounds by a tall wall and a wooden gate. Privacy was a precious and all too rare luxury. This place was isolated; what few sounds drifted over from the castle were muted.

Slipping through the gate, she had to pause a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Once she could see she set off down the path. During the day the garden was a riot of colours and scents. By night the colours were dulled, but lit by the gentle glow of a few scattered candles it possessed its own magic.

She settled herself on a stone bench that one of the servants had padded with cushions in preparation for tonight. Placed far from the path, it was mostly concealed from view by a willow tree and surrounded by fragrant white flowers. It was a place for lovers to slip away from the world for moment or two. The thought started a low throb of loneliness in the pit of her stomach.

She should be elated. The punishment of Dolan (no longer a bann) had clearly sent the desired message. There had been no challenge to her authority, not the slightest sign of discontent. She _was _pleased, but the achievement was dulled by a melancholy that had been plaguing her for days.

It had a lot to do with the change of season. They were sliding into autumn, the days growing gradually but unmistakably cooler. It was the time to embark on journeys, before the deep cold of winter set in and the roads became more difficult to travel. That meant that Loghain would leave soon. It couldn't be avoided. A man of his position could not afford to stay away from the palace for long, and he had already been at Gwaren a month.

She was clearly capable of running the teyrnir, and the business with Dolan had shown that she could handle a crisis. There was no reason for him to stay.

The truth, which she had been trying to avoid all day, was that she would miss Loghain and not just because he was the only man of equal social standing in the castle. She would miss _him_. They had spent more time together over the past fortnight. Since Dolan's capture Loghain had included her in everything. Every time he needed to ride out to address a tenant's concerns or investigate a piece of his land, he invited Elissa to join him and she invariably agreed. What little spare time they had was also spent in each other's company. Once he realised that her interest in the rebellion was genuine, he was more than willing to talk about his experiences. To her surprise, he often inquired about her own, relatively dull, past. It was a comfort, almost a relief, to be able to talk about her family when she missed them so much.

She had been extremely surprised to discover that this taciturn man possessed his own brand of dark wit. He never failed to startle a laugh out of her when she least expected it.

Soon she would lose their daily rides over the land and evening talks, the rapport that was steadily growing between them. She would be left at Gwaren, her only real company Viola and the ever busy Nevan. Maker knew how long it would be before Loghain returned; she was certain she wouldn't see him again until spring at the earliest.

"Are you _hiding_, Elissa?"

She jumped, heart hammering. Somehow she hadn't noticed Loghain's arrival. How she had missed his hulking figure in such a confined space she wasn't sure, but she was determined not to let him see he had startled her twice in one night. "Not at all," she said evenly. "This is merely a temporary retreat."

He snorted. "I've never heard _that_ excuse before." He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was serious. "May I join you?"

"Of course," she said, startled that he was asking permission. She moved over, giving him space to sit next to her.

Once seated, it was a long time before he spoke. Elissa wanted to break the silence, but she sensed he was on the verge of an announcement and didn't want to delay it. Finally he said, "I received a message from Cailan today. He wishes to know when I will return to the capital."

"Surely it must be soon," she said mildly, heart sinking.

He hummed in agreement. "I have been away longer than I intended." He fell back into silence, drumming his fingers against the stone as he thought. "I have a good seneschal," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "He has managed admirably so far."

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I not yet competent enough to run the household?"

"You're capable," he replied absently.

"My lord should not be so free with his praise," she said drily. "My head will swell."

This startled a bark of laughter out of him. "Would you like to come with me?" he asked suddenly.

For a few second she could only blink in surprise. "To Denerim?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"But – I – _Why?_ I thought your purpose in dwelling so long at Gwaren was to ensure I was prepared to run it."

"I underestimated you," he said bluntly. "I see now that you would be wasted here. There are more opportunities for you at the palace. I understand if you would prefer to stay here." His voice changed, becoming distant. "I know you entered this marriage under the belief that we would spend a lot of time apart. If you don't wish-"

Elissa's response surprised even herself. Since the wedding night, when ancient custom had demanded that they consummate their marriage, they had shared only a few chaste kisses. They slept in the same bed but never touched, and she hated the chasm that existed between them every night. Their wedding night had not at all resembled the frightening stories told to her by several women at Highever and, despite the disparity in age, her husband was certainly not unattractive. Thinking of the many times she had reached out to him only to pull back made her furious with herself. She had pursued Dolan without fear, perhaps with relish, yet she could not do this. In this area she was hopelessly inexperienced ,and she had no idea how to bridge the distance between them.

She would never be able to understand what propelled her forwards. Perhaps it was the elation of having every bann and arl under Loghain swear loyalty to her. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Loghain considered her valuable enough to want her in the capital. Before she could second guess herself, she swiftly raised her face and pressed her lips to his. Her heart hammered erratically a, for an awful moment Loghain sat frozen and she feared that she would be pushed away. Then his lips warmed and began to respond to hers. This was not the restrained embrace of their first night; this was harder, almost demanding, and Elissa felt heat pool in her belly. He brought a hand up to curl around her hip, caressing her through the fabric of her dress. When they drew apart he left it there.

Loghain regarded her silently, face half hidden in shadow, eyes unreadable. When he spoke, however, his voice was coloured by quiet amusement. "Am I to take this to mean you're coming, or were you enthusiastically bidding me goodbye?"

"I'm coming," she said firmly.

He nodded approval. "You will do well at court. The Couslands have always been popular; you will forge friendships easily."

"Or alliances, perhaps," she suggested, lips twitching.

"Perhaps," he agreed lightly.

"So your true purpose becomes clear. A gentle word from the teyrna may find favour where the stern teyrn cannot."

"Maker help the man who thinks you gentle. I'm sure Dolan will not make that mistake twice."

"Hush," she murmured, lifting her face to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. "Arl Howe would be scandalised to hear you encourage me so."

He grunted in dismissal. "Howe's sanity must be called into question if he can't see your value." He trailed his fingers over her bare shoulders and neck, leaving a tingling trail in his wake. "I, on the other hand, am not so foolish as to fail to appreciate you." Taking her chin between thumb and forefinger, he tilted her face and caught her lips in a firm kiss. A thrill of excitement ran through her at the thought that _he _ had been the one to initiate this embrace. Up until that moment she had been harbouring a barely acknowledged fear that he simply did not want her. Loghain broke the kiss to say quietly, "Perhaps we should retire."

She nodded and said a little breathlessly, "I hope one of our guests has not claimed our room."

"I'll throw them out of the window," he muttered darkly.

"That wouldn't do," she said, laughing softly. "We should stay here."

"Here?"

"Why not?"

"It's cold." It was a half hearted objection. He had already wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He bent to press his face against her neck, lips seeking out the sensitive skin there.

Elissa tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on, and murmured, "Then it falls to my husband to keep me warm."


	4. A Journey

The next few days were an education. Elissa was astonished by the amount of preparation that had to take place before two people could embark on a journey. Although, of course, when those two people happened to be a teyrn and teyrna they could never travel simply. Immediately a rider was dispatched to the palace to inform the king that Elissa would also be coming to court, and to give the servants time to prepare the necessary extra space. At Gwaren, the castle was plunged into a frenzy of activity as bags were packed, the route decided upon and soldiers selected to form an escort. The clothes she had brought from Highever only a month before had to be packed away again and readied for transport to Denerim.

On top of the more mundane tasks, Loghain insisted on putting Elissa through her paces in the training yard. There were some who viewed the union between Cousland and Mac Tir with ill favour, and there was a possibility, remote but worrying, that an assassin would attempt to end her life while she was vulnerable. As a result, every moment that was not spent packing was spent sparring with Loghain, clashing blades and exchanging blows. She was prepared for his strength but not his speed, and so she spent most of the first day on her back in the dirt. After that she rose to the challenge and landed as many blows as she received, but she still ended every day with muscles screeching in protest at their violent use.

Their daily bouts served to highlight contradictions in her husband's nature. One night, after climbing exhausted into bed, she made the mistake of grumbling about the weakness of her left hand in swordplay. "Your opponent will take advantage of that weakness," said Loghain sternly, but lifted the maligned hand and pressed a kiss firmly into her palm. As his lips progressed further, first finding the crook of her elbow and then the sensitive skin of her neck, she thought her confession had been forgotten. But the next morning when they faced each other, swords drawn, he forbade her from wielding her weapon with her right hand. He gave her no concessions; if anything he attacked her harder than before.

At first she was furious that he would use an offhand remark made in bed against her, but she couldn't deny the improvement in her performance. Rather than confront him, as she had first intended, she watched him closely that night for signs of weakness and the next time they fought used what she had discovered against him mercilessly. He wasn't angry, as she had been. He was almost proud. Unbeknownst to either of them, he had taught Elissa more than to never expect him to go easy on her. More than ever before, she realised the importance of studying people when they thought they were safe, to remember whatever weaknesses they had should she ever need to exploit them.

By the time they departed Gwaren, Elissa was so exhausted she hardly felt able to travel. To her surprise, the first day of their journey invigorated her. The summer was not relinquishing its hold without a final burst of heat, so they did not have to ride through miserable weather. On the journey from Highever she had lacked companionship; now she not only had Loghain, but their guards were amiable. Best of all, one of their retinue had a fondness and talent for recounting old legends. Elissa was not romantic by nature, preferring to deal in the practical rather than the fantastical. Even so, there was something about leaning into Loghain in the dark, listening to hushed words that came to her across a fire, that deeply appealed to a hidden grain of romance. Retiring to bed after the first day of riding, pleasantly tired from the exertion and with the words of the storyteller still ringing in her ears, she decided that she liked journeys.

By the end of their fortnight long journey she was forced to revise her opinion. Every morning she woke dusty and sore from the saddle. She longed for a hot bath and a soft bed to collapse into, but the one night they hired rooms at an inn turned out to be disastrous. They spent a sleepless night on the floor after discovering the blankets to be filthy and lice ridden. The sunny weather she had initially been so grateful for turned out to be a curse. It wasn't pleasantly warm; it was _hot_. If she sweated uncomfortably in her relatively light leathers, she couldn't imagine how Loghain and their guards suffered in metal armour. She would have preferred rain or biting wind. That, at least, would have provided her with an excuse to wind herself around Loghain in their bedroll. As it was they ended every day irritable, lying far apart from each other, limbs flung out in an attempt to find a patch of coolness.

On the final day of their journey Elissa woke in higher spirits. Within a few hours she would be lodged in a comfortable suite of rooms at the palace. Yesterday's ride had brought them tantalisingly close to the capital. She had wanted to push on despite the lateness of the hour but Loghain had insisted they make camp and, annoyance aside, she knew he was right. She wanted the benefit of a decent night's sleep and a fresh gown before meeting the king and queen.

Rolling over, she frowned as she saw that Loghain had already vacated the tent. Usually he roused her if he woke first. She donned a simple tunic and breeches, betting that so close to their destination they would be allowed a leisurely breakfast. When Loghain appeared at the mouth of their tent similarly attired she saw that her guess had been correct.

"Come with me," he said abruptly.

She straightened from lacing her boots and regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "A novel way to greet your wife."

"The hour is far too early for niceties."

She smiled grudgingly. "On that point we're agreed."

Following him outside, she saw that a surprising number of their retinue was already awake and crowded eagerly around the fire. The bustle of activity became clear as the smell of roasting meat reached her nose. For the last few days their meagre meals had consisted largely of dried meat and stale bread. She didn't know who had tracked down fresh meat, but she could kiss them. Stomach grumbling, she veered towards the source of the delicious smell. Loghain's hand closed gently around her elbow, pulling her back on course.

"But-" she began, looking longingly over her shoulder.

"I've told them to save us some. The food is intended to keep them occupied for a while. I don't wish to waste the opportunity."

Very much doubting that there would be anything left for them when they returned, but intrigued at what he had in mind, she followed with only a little reluctance. He led her from the small clearing where they had made camp into the nearby trees. There was no path or track, Loghain seeming to follow a course by memory. The small racket made by their party quickly fell away and they walked a few minutes in companionable silence, which was a treat in itself.

The trees suddenly thinned and Elissa's eyes fell on what Loghain had been so eager for her to see. It was a beautifully clear lake protected from view by a thick circle of trees. She had to stifle a moan of anticipation. Although the day had not yet warmed up, and she could easily imagine how cold the water would be, there was nothing she wanted more than to submerge herself in the lake. She hadn't been able to bathe properly since leaving Gwaren, and the idea of sinking into cool, clean water was heavenly.

"Well?" said Loghain, and she didn't need to look at him to know he was smirking. "Is this worth delaying breakfast for?"

"It's _perfect," _she sighed, already tugging at her clothes. She stripped quickly, tossing her clothes into an untidy heap on the ground. Ignoring Loghain's chuckle, she hurried to the edge of the water before hesitating. She dipped a big toe tentatively into the water, shivering at the coolness that was not unexpected but still a shock. She had to immerse herself quickly or she would spend hours dithering here. Or worse, Loghain would grow impatient with her hesitancy and throw her in. Steeling herself, she waded in. When the water hit her chest she stopped and ducked her head beneath the surface. Teeth chattering, she launched herself forward gracelessly and began to swim, hoping that movement would warm her up. It worked. The exertion brought colour to her cheeks and feeling back to her numbs toes and fingers. Now the shock of sudden cold began to fade she could appreciate the feeling of finally being clean, of washing away the uncomfortable stickiness from days of travelling.

By the time she finished swimming Loghain had disrobed and joined her in the lake, standing waist deep in the water. She paddled over to him, splashing and making far too much noise. "Not a born swimmer, are you?" he said, lips twitching, as she reached him. Glowering, she flung her arms through the water, sending a small wave crashing over his head. He blinked stupidly, water dripping steadily from the tip of his nose, until Elissa began to laugh. Then he sprang into action, grabbing her wrists and pinning her to his chest before she could splash him again. "Now what are you going to do?" he murmured smugly in her ear.

Smirking, she raised herself on tiptoe and captured his lips in a searing kiss. His grasp on her wrists loosened until he relinquished it entirely in favour of gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. She had planned to use the distraction to resume splashing him, but her traitorous arms wound themselves around his neck. They hadn't been this close since Gwaren, prevented by the constant presence of the many people that made up their retinue. Right now, however, the only reminder of the others was a dog barking in the distance. _Funny, _she thought vaguely. _I didn't think there was a dog with us. _Then Loghain's insistent mouth demanded her attention, and for the moment the dog was forgotten.

Until the barking suddenly sounded much, _much _closer. A loud splash startled them apart, and Elissa whirled around to see a dog paddling frantically towards them.

"What in the name of the Maker is that?" said Loghain incredulously, moving to stand in front of Elissa. With his bulk he stood a better chance against the dog if it turned out to be hostile. But somehow she didn't think it meant them any harm. It looked happy, almost deliriously so, and something about its excited thrashing was very familiar. Squinting, she saw that it wasn't just any dog. It was _her _dog.

"Conobar?" she cried.

The dog barked happily and redoubled his efforts to reach her.

"Elissa?" asked Loghain, puzzled eyes demanding an explanation.

"That's Conobar, my mabari. My mother made me leave him behind, she said – oh, it doesn't matter," she said in an excited rush. "How did he get here?"

As if in answer to her question a voice rang through the trees, calling for Conobar. _Oh Maker, _she thought as she realised whose voice it was. _Oh Andraste. Please, no, anything but this. _But her prayers went unheard. A man burst through the trees, stumbling to a halt as his eyes fell on the bathing couple. She was too far away to see the moment of recognition, but she knew when it happened because of the unconcealed horror on his face. "Elissa?" he spluttered.

"Fergus," she squeaked, throwing her arms across her chest and ducking beneath the water. Conobar, as poor a swimmer as his mistress, finally reached her and began to joyously lick her face. She relinquished a hand to scratch his head in greeting, grateful for his bulk shielding her from Fergus's view. She threw a desperate look at Loghain, silently pleading for help, but she knew he was going to let her struggle through this alone. His face might look impassive to anyone else but she had known him long enough to recognise the signs – the almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, the slight crinkling at the corner of his eyes – that betrayed his amusement. Resisting the urge to aim a kick at his shin, she called to Fergus, "What are you doing here?"

His eyes widened, almost bulging. "What am _I _doing here?" he repeated incredulously. "I'm not the one – No, there's no time. I'm hunting with the king and he could be here at any moment.

The words had barely left his mouth before Elissa began splashing noisily back to land, desperate for her clothes. Fergus hastily turned his back. With no time to dry off she struggled into her clothes, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to her wet skin. Conobar didn't help matters by pawing at her legs, demanding attention. When she finished dressing she bent to greet him properly, scratching a favourite spot behind his ear and murmuring softly. Loghain, clad only in breeches and apparently unconcerned about the king finding him half dressed, watched them closely. "I didn't know you had a mabari."

Elissa shrugged uncomfortably. She hadn't wanted to think about Conobar. She had fought hard against her mother's decree that he would remain at Highever, but she had lost. There were sound reasons, she supposed. Fear of abduction attempts, such as the one Viola could have fallen victim to, meant that they had to travel swiftly, and their hard pace might have exhausted him. Eleanor promised to arrange his transport at an unspecified point in the future, but Elissa was doubtful. A good war dog was a prized asset, and she feared they would decide he would better serve her father or Fergus. She told none of this to Loghain, instead opting for the simpler explanation of, "Mother insisted he stay at Highever."

"Foolish," he commented and Elissa eyes snapped to his, surprised by the irritation in his voice. "Separating a mabari from the person they are bonded to can only bring harm."

Head sinking, Conobar whined in agreement. "We're together now, Conobar," said Elissa soothingly, giving him a gentle nudge and indicating that he should roll over. He gave a happy bark and obeyed, flopping onto his back to expose his stomach for tickling. Loghain watched the scene with quiet amusement, his former annoyance dissipating from his face.

"Why Conobar?" he asked, pulling on his shirt.

Elissa let out a snort of laughter. "Aldous, my tutor in matters of history, was forever scolding me for failing to remember the facts about Highever's past. I was trying to prove that I remembered at least one of my famous forebears."

"And was he duly impressed?"

"Not particularly," said Fergus who had finally joined them now that Loghain was fully dressed. "I believe the phrase 'yawning chasm between your ears' was used."

"Thank you, brother," she said wryly.

"You're welcome, sister," he returned, grinning. His smile softened as he turned to face her properly, tugging her into a firm embrace. "It's good to see you," he said with feeling. Her eyes were suddenly and unexpectedly hot. Until now she hadn't realised how much she had missed Fergus, his gentle teasing and ready affection. A sudden pang of homesickness threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She was happier with Loghain than she had ever expected to be but leaving her family, the familiar jokes and well worn complaints as well as their ever present love, had hurt her more than she had known.

Loghain stood by silently. Perhaps he could sense the sudden swell of emotion, or perhaps he simply did not wish to intrude on the private moment between sister and brother. Whatever the reason, he waited patiently even though Elissa had conducted a great breach of etiquette by failing to introduce him. Realising that they were being unaccountably rude, she stepped out of Fergus's arms and stood at Loghain's side.

"Forgive me," she said, horrified at the waver in her voice. "Husband, my brother Fergus Cousland of Highever." Fergus bowed but was unable to conceal a smile at such a formal introduction given the circumstances in which he had found them. When he straightened she continued, "Brother, my husband Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren." As a man of higher rank, Loghain's bow was a mere tilt of his head.

They fell into an awkward silence thankfully cut short by the sound of approaching hoof beats. The king, presumably, arriving at last. When he burst through the trees there was no doubting that he was indeed the king. He wore magnificent golden armour, no doubt cumbersome but worth the discomfort for the impression it made. She had never met Cailan before but she had seen portraits. To her surprise, she saw that the artists had not needed to stretch reality to provide him with a flattering likeness.

"Fergus!" he called cheerfully. "So this is where you have been hiding."

"Not hiding, your majesty. I have made a discovery – your missing Councilor and my sister."

Cailan urged his horse into a trot, skirting the edge of the lake to come to a halt next to the small party. As he dismounted Elissa and Loghain bowed, although the latter's gesture was as small at it had been to Fergus. "This is a pleasant surprise," said Cailan, slapping Loghain amiably on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed slightly but when he spoke his voice remained friendly. "Now, you _have _been hiding. Nearly seven weeks away from Denerim with barely a word. Anora is quite beside herself."

"It has been a long time since I visited Gwaren," said Loghain stiffly. "My affairs required careful attention."

"Say what you will, Loghain, I believe the reason for your absence is closer at hand. And who can blame you when the inducement is so lovely?" He turned his brilliant smile on Elissa and she couldn't help but respond with a smile of her own. When Howe paid her a similar compliment her stomach had turned, but she sensed none of his insincerity in Cailan. "You must be Elissa," he said, taking her hands warmly in his own. "I have heard much about you."

"All of it good, I hope. I would hate to have to send my brother back to Highever bruised."

He laughed delightedly. "Far be it from me to cause strife in families." He took her arm and led her away from the lake. She heard Loghain and Fergus fall into step behind them, murmuring quietly together. Tilting her head slightly, she strained to hear them. All interest in their conversation vanished when Calian pronounced, "You must join us on the hunt."

"I'm not fit to be seen, your majesty!" she protested.

"Nonsense! You're every bit as beautiful as Fergus described."

Elissa pleaded with him to allow her to return to camp to change into something more suitable. Her promises to be brief and return to him the moment she was ready fell on deaf ears. He wouldn't allow her to delay her share in the fun over unwarranted concerns about her appearance. Whoever Cailan was leading her to, she would face them in dripping and dirty clothes. She could only pray that Anora wasn't fond of hunting.


	5. Anora

The hunting party was small, comprised of only a few minor nobles. Elissa guessed that the hunt had been an impromptu decision, and Cailan had grabbed whoever he could find for company. Thankfully the queen was nowhere in sight, but with the way Cailan hurried them along she doubted she would get the chance to clean up. Loghain, perhaps sensing her distress, convinced the king to halt the party at a nearby village for a mid morning meal. Delighted with the rustic feast promised to him by the innkeeper, Cailan readily agreed. While the others ate, Loghain drew Elissa away to the cottage of an obliging villager. A few silvers changed hands and she was given the use of a private room for as long as she wanted it.

"Thank you," she said with relief, rising on tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek before slipping into the room.

He handed her a small bag. "I should return to Cailan before he comes in search of us," he said with the air of a man who faced a tremendously unpleasant task.

As soon as he disappeared outside, she shut the door. Opening the bag, she found that he'd had the foresight to retrieve one of her dresses and a delicate pair of shoes fit for nothing but the softest of surfaces. The dress wasn't her finest, but it had weathered the journey well. She undressed quickly, washing in the lukewarm water provided by the cottage's owner and slipping into the clean clothes. There was no mirror to judge the success of her transformation, so she could only hope that she didn't look too rumpled and creased.

By the time she rejoined the party they were ready to make the short journey back to Denerim. They rode at a sedate pace, enjoying what was sure to be one of the last warm days of the year. At any other time Elissa would have hated their painfully slow progress, growing increasingly nervous about the impending meeting with the queen with each passing minute. Now she was grateful for the slow, even ride, taking the opportunity to gulp down the food Loghain had set aside for her from lunch.

As they dismounted and entered the palace district, she was aware that she was gawping like a peasant girl. Unusually for a woman of her station she had never seen it before. She should have been introduced at court when she came of age, but the landmark day came and passed without mention of a journey to the capital. When she occasionally grew restless and wished for an adventure, her parents saw that she was distracted with additional responsibilities. Most of the time, however, she was content to remain where she was. She had her friends and family, absorbing work, even the occasional admirer. Highever was her whole world.

She had visited Denerim once before but had been strictly forbidden from straying outside the market district. It had been shortly after Fergus's betrothal to Oriana and a few months before her scheduled arrival. Eleanor insisted that the family needed new clothes for the wedding, and that they all must go to Denerim to choose the appropriate fabric. No one minded. The teyrn almost always had business in the city, and Fergus was hardly likely to pass up the opportunity to handle the fine weapons made there. Although she could envision many dull sessions of dressmaking in the future, Elissa was happy at the prospect of leaving Highever's boundaries for the first time. Outside of lessons she was still under Nan's supervision but growing old enough to resent it, and she looked forward to the opportunity to expend the restless energy that had been building in her for weeks.

The capital had stunned her with its noise and activity. Now she saw that she had only glimpsed a small portion of it. On her first visit she had not seen the beautiful gardens, nor the richly dressed courtiers milling around in the hope of catching the attention of the king or queen.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Fergus appeared at her side. "You look pensive, sister. Feeling overwhelmed?"

"Not at all. I was remembering my first trip here."

He grimaced. "I treated you appallingly, if I recall correctly."

She stared at him in unconcealed confusion before chuckling as the memory came to her. Assassination attempts on vulnerable young heirs were always a possibility, and never more so than when they strayed outside the security of the family home. Their parents had insisted that Fergus share a room with Elissa so they would not have to divide their guard force. She had resented the intrusion on her privacy, but Fergus had been horrified at what he saw as an insult to his manhood. Forced to obey his parents, he took out his frustration on Elissa. No matter how cheerful he was during the day, the moment they returned to the inn he was plunged into a foul mood.

"Indeed. You were not easy to live with for those few days."

"I know." He glanced down, almost bashful. "I was an ungrateful wretch after the trouble you took helping me find a wedding gift for Oriana."

Fergus had been at a loss as to what to buy the woman he knew only through formal letters, and he was too embarrassed to consult their parents. Instead he turned to Elissa. They had scoured every shop and stall until the final day of their trip when, despairing of ever finding anything, they stumbled across a perfume made from a prized Antivan flower. "You never did tell me if she liked it," Elissa commented.

"She did," he said, face softening in a manner that was customary where Oriana was concerned. "She rarely uses it. She wants it to last, says it reminds her of home."

They were nearing the doors of the palace and at the front of their small group Loghain swivelled his head, searching for Elissa. Etiquette dictated that she be introduced to the queen at his side. It was a relief that she would not have to do it alone. His solid presence behind her had been a comfort at the ceremony at Gwaren, and she found herself grateful for it now. She raised her hand to draw his attention and made to go to him, but was stopped by Fergus's light touch on her shoulder. Loghain raised his eyebrows as she held up a finger, indicating that she would be along in a moment, but returned without protest to his conversation with Cailan.

"What is it, Fergus?" she asked, turning back to face him.

He looked uncertain, almost uncomfortable. "I – well, not just me, mother and father too – want to make sure you're alright."

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Teyrn Loghain... He has a reputation for severity. Not to mention the fact that he's of an age with father. I know you chose this marriage, but since the moment you left Highever we have worried that you would regret it."

"Fergus," she said, meeting his eyes firmly to show her sincerity, "did I look unhappy when you first came across us at the lake?"

His cheeks flared but his voice remained steady. "In all honesty, Elissa, I tried not to look too closely."

She bit down on the snort that threatened to erupt from her throat. Recovering herself she said, "You have nothing to worry about. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're certain?"

"Have you ever known me to stifle a complaint?" she asked wryly.

He shook his head, relaxing visibly. "I'm glad to have good news to take back to our parents. Father is concerned but mother has shed tears over you. She tells me nothing, of course, but she confides in Oriana."

Elissa's eyes widened at this piece of news. Relations with her mother had grown increasingly fraught in her last few months at Highever, a deterioration in a relationship that had been tense since she came of age. Elissa's reluctance to marry might have been amusing when she was a girl, but as the years passed and she showed no signs of finding a husband Eleanor grew exasperated. When she finally consented to marry Loghain – the only match in the kingdom that would not debase her – Elissa had hoped there would be some sort of peace between them. Instead the wedding preparations had presented them with a host of new things to quarrel over. Conobar, her trousseau, how and when she should travel to Gwaren. By the time she left Highever she was relieved to escape the constant bickering and fraught nerves. Now the idea that her mother had wept over her while Elissa had harboured less than charitable thoughts about her sent an almost painful wave of guilt coursing through her.

"Elissa?" said Fergus gently, eyes concerned and alarmed by the sudden change in her demeanour.

She smiled with as much reassurance as she could muster. "Pay me no mind, I have just realised how much I miss mother. You will send her my love? Send everyone my best wishes, but particularly mother. I don't want her to worry."

"Of course I will, and I will do my best to reassure her although I doubt she will believe you are well lest she sees it with her own eyes." He paused, resuming the serious expression he had worn when he first drew her aside. "Highever will always be your home, sister. You will always be welcome."

Touched, she squeezed his hand briefly, affectionately, and said, "I know , Fergus. Thank you."

There was no time to say anything further. If she delayed any longer Loghain and the king might grow impatient. Besides which, she had discovered that Fergus would not return to Highever for several days yet. There would be plenty of time to talk with him. She turned from him and her feet carried her automatically to Loghain, her mind elsewhere. Despite the difficulty in breaking a marriage, Fergus had gently let her know that she would be welcome if she ever chose to return home. Few were so fortunate in their brothers.

Most of the group had pulled ahead to crowd around Cailan just outside the doors. One of them was talking intently, and Elissa guessed he was taking the opportunity to press a case – for land, for station, for advancement – with the king. Loghain stood apart from the others, unusually agitated, watching her with a strange expression. When she reached him he touched his fingers softly to her cheek in a gesture that was uncharacteristically tender in such a public setting. It was only when he pulled away and she saw his glistening fingertips that she realised a few tears had spilled onto her cheeks. His eyes snapped to Fergus, watching him with an intensity that bordered on hostility, and she realised how he could have misinterpreted her damp eyes. Fergus could have brought her dire news from Highever; he could have castigated her for the scene at the lake.

"It's not as it seems," she said hurriedly. "I am happy."

He looked at her sceptically. "You will forgive me for hoping that I never make you so happy."

She gave a watery chuckle and, deciding to risk her own gesture of public affection, kissed the fingers that had touched her tears. Placated for the time being, he allowed her to slide her arm through his and steer him into the palace.

Inside she stared around the throne room with wide eyes, surprised to find it so simple. Although larger, with room enough to accommodate all the nobles of Ferelden on grand occasions, it was not dissimilar to the main halls at Highever and Gwaren. She had expected grandeur, particularly after meeting Cailan. At heart he seemed a romantic man, the type to cover his walls with tapestries depicting legends that enraptured him. Instead she could see only simple hangings bearing the heraldry of the kingdom. Perhaps Anora, like her father, favoured simplicity and her preference had triumphed over Cailan's. Or, more likely, the nobility found excessive decorations too reminiscent of the pompous finery that had covered the court under Orlesian rule.

The thrones were the exception. Golden, covered by delicate lace hangings and flanked on both sides by portraits of the royal couple, they were rather out of place in the comparatively stark room. This was where Elissa caught her first glimpse of Anora, watched over by a fiercely scowling, heavily armoured woman with a large sword at her hip.

She had to restrain herself from gawking openly. In her time at Gwaren she had never come across a portrait of Loghain's first wife, but it was clear Anora had inherited her mother's features. Studying her through lowered lashes, she could find almost nothing of Loghain in the queen's face. Her features were delicate where his were heavy, her fine blonde hair entirely the opposite of his dark, unruly mane. The only sign that they were kin were their eyes: icy blue, startling in their intensity and giving whoever they fell on the impression that they were being weighed and judged.

Elissa swept into a deep curtsey. By the time she straightened, Anora was on her feet and approaching the couple. She took Elissa's hands and graced her with a surprisingly warm smile. Elissa was glad she had been able to wash, and hoped that nervousness had not made her palms grow damp. If it had, Anora gave no sign of it.

"So, you are Gwaren's new teyrna and my father's new wife," Anora greeted her warmly. "You are most welcome here."

Elissa met her eyes with some difficulty, trying to hide her surprise at such a friendly, even affectionate, welcome. "Thank you, your Majesty."

"There is no need to thank me, Elissa. The palace is your home when you are not at Gwaren." Retaining her hold on Elissa's hands, the queen turned her eyes on Loghain. "Father, how kind of you to come," she said, a slight edge to her otherwise polite tone.

"There was much to do at Gwaren, Anora," he replied, meeting her piercing gaze with far more ease than Elissa had been able to manage.

"Of that I am certain," she said before lapsing into silence, staring at her father expectantly. When he did not act on her unspoken command, her otherwise creaseless brow crinkled slightly in a frown. "I am sure you have much to discuss with Ser Cauthrien, father," she said pointedly. Loghain's hesitation was so slight as to be almost imperceptible. He nodded, rumbling an agreement, and went to the scowling guard who had been watching the proceedings keenly.

Elissa was suddenly apprehensive again. Anora, like her father, had something of a reputation for coldness, and the friendly reception she had extended to her young stepmother had come as a surprise. After so obviously dismissing Loghain, Elissa couldn't help but think that if Anora harboured ill feelings towards her she would express them now.

But the queen surprised her again. "I hope you will join my ladies," she said quietly, almost confidentially. By tradition queens always had a special group of women, selected from the nobles of the court, who acted as their close companions. They gathered in the queen's chambers, or in the gardens if the weather was fine, to talk, read, play music together. Anything that took the queen's fancy. Elissa had assumed that this particular queen had allowed the tradition to lapse. Cailan might be king, but rumour had it that the reins of power were firmly in Anora's grasp. It was surprising that she had time for such frivolity.

"I would be honoured, your Majesty," said Elissa sincerely.

Anora favoured her with another smile. "Good. But I am being dreadfully discourteous. Of course you must be exhausted after your long journey." She made a small gesture and a servant appeared at her side almost instantly. She gave Elissa's hands a gentle squeeze and said, "I hope you will join me later."

"Of course, your Majesty. I look forward to it."

With that, the servant ushered Elissa away. Loghain, his brief conversation with the guard – Cauthrien – apparently concluded, fell in step with her. "That looked like it went well," he said quietly enough that the servant wouldn't hear.

"It did. Anora is... Well, she is not what I expected."

"And what did you expect?"

She fell silent for a long moment, thinking, before finally admitting, "I'm not sure."

Loghain looked like he wanted to pursue the topic further, but was prevented when they turned into a corridor bustling with activity. Servants scurried between rooms, carrying baskets and armfuls of clothing. Elissa was reminded of the chaos of the days before they had departed Gwaren. "Are the king and queen going somewhere?" she asked, stepping over a tunic that had slipped unnoticed from someone's grasp.

"No," replied Loghain, something like reluctance in his voice. "Arl Eamon is returning to Redcliffe for a time. Until next summer, at least. Possibly longer."

Elissa stared at him, frowning in consternation. The arl was an important man. Uncle to the king and, more importantly, a trusted advisor. That he should leave the palace for a year or more was unsettling. It could only mean that something was drastically wrong with his family or land, or he had done something to incur Cailan's displeasure. "Why is the arl leaving for so long?" she asked cautiously.

Loghain shook his head. "I will tell you. You're certain to find out anyway, and I would rather you hear it from me than a court gossip. But not here."

Reluctantly, Elissa acquiesced and fell silent as the servant showed them to a suite of rooms in an isolated part of the building. Their luggage had preceded them there, the bags standing open and waiting to be unpacked in the middle of the floor. Loghain waved the servant away when he asked if they wanted help with their clothes, and it was with relief that Elissa watched the door close on the unwelcome presence.

She did not have to prompt Loghain. The moment they were alone he announced, "Eamon was moving against Anora."

"The Arl? It can't be!" she gasped. Eamon had spent a few days at Highever shortly before Loghain had sent his proposal to Elissa. She had liked the arl immediately, and his loyalty to Ferelden and Cailan seemed unshakeable. Her parents certainly trusted him and she had never had reason to doubt their judgement. "He seems like such a loyal man."

"He doesn't wish to harm the king, only replace his queen. Anora is childless. Some of the Councillors have expressed concerns... Unfounded, all of them. She is yet young, there is plenty of time for her to conceive. Eamon is just impatient."

"That seems rash," she said slowly. "Anora is not yet thirty."

"Impatient," he repeated, and then waved his hand as if dismissing the topic. "Enough of this. We have much to do. If you wish to speak more about this, we shall do so later."

Taking her cue from him and turning to attend to their bags, Elissa reflected that she should finally have been able to relax. She had been welcomed warmly into the palace by both king and queen when Anora had every reason to resent her. Matches involving large age gaps were not uncommon, but Anora must find it strange to have a younger stepmother. The unconditionally friendly greeting she had received unsettled her, and the news about Eamon had only added to the feeling. She was plagued by an uneasiness, a sense that she was seeing only a small part of a larger picture.

She wanted to retreat to a place where she could sit quietly and think, but she was not given the opportunity. There was a flurry of unpacking and organising as they settled into their new rooms, and no sooner had she finished than there was a servant at the door summoning her to attend on the queen. Within moments of being introduced to the queen's women, she knew they could not be trusted. Every last one was a viper. Scheming and ruthlessly ambitious, they were determined to use their privileged positions to advance their families. Elissa could see why Anora kept them close. Better to listen in on their conversations, to keep a close watch on their simmering rivalries, than to let them make their plans behind her back. The new respect she felt for Anora was tempered with pity; even in her leisure time the queen could not relax.

When the sun began to set she was escorted to a banquet given in honour of the newly arrived teyrn and teyrna. Given that their arrival had been unexpected, she was amazed at how much food had been prepared. Whenever she thought that the feasting must come to a close, that the diners could not eat another mouthful, servants streamed forth from the kitchens bearing a fresh load of platters.

It wasn't until much later, after she had fallen gratefully into a clean, soft bed, that the cause of her uneasiness finally came to her. She wasn't pursuing the puzzle; on the verge of sleep, two seemingly unconnected events – Eamon's fall from grace and Anora's unexpectedly warm welcome – slid together in her mind.

She was jerked out of her haze of fatigue, staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Eamon had sought to replace Anora, but there were few women in the kingdom worthy of marriage to the king. Elissa's name would be at the top of that very short, very prestigious list. She was the daughter of a teyrn, one of the few women in Ferelden who approached Cailan's high status. But this was also true of Anora. More importantly, Elissa was young and had many years ahead of her for childbearing.

It was highly possible that before he had raised the delicate issue with the king, Eamon had sought out potential brides to replace Anora. He might have sounded out her parents to see if they would consent to a match between Elissa and Cailan during his brief stay at Highever. No one had even hinted about such a plan to her, but of course they would say nothing until success was almost assured. Such a scenario would explain much more than just Anora's behaviour. Eleanor's seemingly inexplicable tension and unhappiness after Elissa had acquiesced so readily to Loghain's proposal could have stemmed from the misguided hope that she would have Cailan as a son-in-law.

Then there was Loghain himself. For many years he had been content as a widower. Whenever families made discrete inquiries on behalf of their daughters they were firmly rebuffed. It was generally assumed that he was too devoted to the kingdom to marry again, too consumed with his duties to even consider starting another family. No one could have foreseen that he would seek the hand of Bryce Cousland's daughter. The timing of his proposal, shortly after Eamon's visit to Highever, condemned him. If the arl had schemed with her parents, it was just long enough for Loghain to catch wind of it and make plans of his own.

For a moment the full force of a surprising anger was turned on Fergus. His kind words earlier in the day, his reminder that Highever was her home, were clearly part of a weak ploy to break her marriage, leaving her free to wed the king. But this was wrong, she knew it instinctively even while she longed for a target to vent her frustration on. For better or worse, Fergus spoke his mind. When it came to the little sister he loved, he was all but incapable of keeping a secret. Their parents would not have informed him if they had made plans with the arl.

Elissa rolled onto her side, pulling the covers around her shoulders and trying to will away the heat that prickled her eyes. She had been perceptive enough to see that the queen's ladies were not her true friends, merely schemers who had to be carefully observed, but she had failed to grasp that Anora counted her as one of them. If the queen considered her a threat she would want to keep her close, watch her ceaselessly and, above all, keep her out of Cailan's sight lest he forget his loyalty. She tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that she knew none of this for certain. Still, she couldn't help but stare into Loghain's face, guarded even in sleep, and wonder whether he had married her only to protect his daughter.


	6. A Letter

Despite her exhaustion Elissa did not sleep. Rather than allow her eyes to close, as her body desperately wanted her to, she remained wakeful and worked to convince herself that her revelation changed nothing. Her marriage to Loghain was not, after all, made for love. But up until now she had felt that she brought value to the union. A stake in Highever, the prestige of her name and her not inconsiderable skill for administering land and households. Now she felt like an obstacle that had been overcome, nothing more than a burden.

Her discovery threatened the already fragile tenderness that she was coming to feel for her husband. She had thought there was an understanding, a sympathy, between them. Much of the time he allowed her to set the pace and course of their relationship, giving her valuable time to adjust to the sudden changes in her life. He valued her talents, both in swordplay and local politics, and she appreciated his respect knowing that another husband might have used her simply as a broodmare. What she felt for him was not love, not yet, but it had the potential to turn into it. Everything she had surmised shook her deeply, forcing her to look at the events of their marriage through different eyes.

She sat up abruptly, swinging her legs from beneath the covers to perch uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. The movement must have disturbed Loghain. Unlike most people he did not wake gradually but came instantly awake when something roused him. She felt movement behind her and a hand alighted on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"I..." she began and faltered immediately. She was too tired, too fraught, for a fight and she felt that one would be inevitable if she broached the topic. "It's my back," she blurted, seizing on the first thing that came to mind. It was as good an excuse as any. After their training sessions at Gwaren, days in the saddle and nights sleeping on the hard ground her lower back had been throbbing by the time they reached Denerim. She had mentioned it after he saw her shifting uncomfortably at the banquet.

"This is what comes of neglecting your horsemanship," he said sternly. Her lip curled in a humourless smile. He was right, of course. She was not a natural rider and she avoided it unless she absolutely had to travel. But she was in no mood to tolerate a lecture from him. Before she could bite out a sharp response his arm circled around her waist and pulled her gently back into bed to lie next to him. He slid her nightgown up over her hips to run his fingers over the base of her back. The gesture was too light to be an attempt at easing her pain; he was trying to soothe her. Hating herself for her weakness, she leaned into the caress, unable to resist the comfort he offered. As his breathing grew deeper he moved his hand to cup her hip, anchoring her firmly against him.

While he slipped easily back into sleep, Elissa remained awake in the dark. A deep pang, close to a physical pain, struck her in the pit of her stomach at the display of tenderness. She had been unfair to him. Not about his motives for marrying her; she was certain he would have done it for Anora's sake if he thought it necessary. But she was equally sure that his signs of respect and affection were not false. There was no need for him to encourage her feelings, and he was not the type of man to play with a young woman's heart simply for his own amusement.

As light began to filter through the drapes she roused herself to action. Couslands did not lie abed all day wallowing in self pity, and while she was a Mac Tir now she was quite certain that they would not approve of it either. She slid from the bed, carefully this time so as not to wake Loghain again, and dressed hurriedly in the dim light. Pinning her hair back in an untidy bun, she left the room with as little noise as possible. Despite the earliness of the hour it took her less than a minute to find a servant. "Do you know where to find Lord Cousland?"

The woman had been blinking blearily, staring at a point behind Elissa's shoulder, but at the mention of Fergus's name she straightened to attention. Taking a closer look at Elissa, she clearly came to the conclusion that, in spite of her unkempt appearance, she was someone of importance. "Yes, my lady, would you like me to take you to him?"

"Please do."

The woman took her on a long walk to a different part of the palace. Elissa paid close attention, searching for landmarks that would help her find her way back through the unfamiliar corridors. Finally the servant came to a halt and pointed at a door. Elissa thanked her and, bobbing a curtsey, the woman disappeared back to her duties. She knocked on the door and from the other side Conobar gave an excited bark. When the door opened he surged into the corridor, pressing his damp nose into her palm in search of affection.

Fergus stood in the doorway, half dressed and bleary eyed. "Is everything alright?" he asked immediately.

"As far as I know. May I come in?"

"Of course." He stood aside to let her enter. The room was in a state of disarray, clothes spread untidily over the bed and two empty packs open in readiness. She guessed he planned to leave before the morning was over and was glad she hadn't waited to seek him out. He cleared off a chair for her, and Conobar came to rest his head on her knee the moment she was seated.

"I need a favour," she said bluntly.

Fergus chuckled. "And you have come so early in the morning to catch me off guard?" He grinned at her so she would know he was not serious, but when his eyes fell on her drawn, worried face his smile faded. "Are you certain all is well?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I need your help to find out."

He looked puzzled but, rather than questioning her, merely asked, "What do you need of me?"

She hesitated, uncertain of how to explain her suspicions and the events and guesswork that had prompted them. Simpler, she decided, was better. "I believe that our parents were arranging another match for me before I received Loghain's offer. I need you to find out if it's true."

"Did they mention this to you?"

"No."

"Then why-?"

"I have my reasons," she interrupted. "I would rather not have to explain them unless my suspicions are confirmed."

He stared at her silently, lips compressed in a tight line. "If this is true, why would they tell me when they said nothing to you?"

She had thought about this, and was counting on her parents' affection for her. Unlike some nobles they did not view their children as mere pawns in the game of politics. They may even have kept her in the dark about their plans in order to protect her. "Tell them you fear for my safety," she said, not without a twinge of guilt.

"At the moment that would not be a lie," he said gravely. "You are worrying me, Elissa."

"I am sorry for it. If it reassures you at all, I don't truly believe I'm in danger. It's the only way I can think of to force the truth from them."

"Small comfort when you are acting so strangely." He dropped onto the bottom of the bed with a grunt. Raising his eyes to Elissa's, he studied her intently. She was relieved to see only concern, and no hint on disapproval, in his face. "I will do what you ask," he said eventually, "but I must insist on knowing everything."

"After you speak to our parents," she promised. "If it turns out that I'm wrong I will write you a long letter about my paranoid imaginings. If I am right... Well, you will require no further explanation from me."

"You seem to be set on turning my hair grey with worry," he grumbled, glowering at her. Seeing the determined set of her shoulders, he rolled his eyes and relented. "Very well. It shall be as you wish, _exactly _as you wish. By now I know better than to argue with you."

"Thank you," she said with relief, rising to embrace him. When they separated she waved her arm to indicate the scattered clothes and asked, "You leave soon?"

"As soon as I can take leave of Cailan and Anora."

"I will be sorry to lose your company so soon."

His lips quirked. "Well I will not be sorry to leave when a grand mystery awaits me at Highever."

Elissa snorted and made for the door, where she was caught in a bone creaking hug. They bade each other farewell and she left, Conobar following now that Fergus was leaving. She returned to her chambers with a lighter step than she had left them, stopping every few feet to ruffle Conobar's ears. When she had arrived at Fergus's rooms she had undoubtedly worried her dog, and she wanted to reassure him that all was well. Despite her frequent stops and taking the wrong turn several times, Loghain was still asleep when she finally returned. She was surprised and relieved. Normally he rose before her, but his delay today gave her time to compose herself.

Moving around the room on tiptoe, she shed her crumpled dress for a fresh one. While they were at the banquet last night some servant had wrought a miracle on her clothes, so that no one would have guessed they had been crammed into a trunk and transported across the kingdom. She tidied her hair in the mirror, relieved to see that nothing in her face betrayed her sleepless night.

By the time Loghain woke, Elissa was the picture of tranquillity, seated in a chair near the window with a book open on her lap. Conobar padded over to the bed as Loghain propped himself up on his elbows. He held his hand out for the dog to sniff and, when Conobar bared his approval, scratched behind his ears. "Now here's a strange sight: my wife awake and dressed before me."

She didn't look up from her book. "Shouldn't you be appreciating such a rare and beautiful sight rather than complaining about it?" she said, forcing herself to keep her tone light.

She heard the slight creak of the bed as he rose and then his bare feet padding across the floor. Still, his breath against her ear surprised her into a shiver. "It was not a complaint." He a placed a swift kiss on her earlobe and then backed away in search of clothes. She resisted the urge to touch the place he had kissed, shocked by her sudden sense of loss.

"Do you feel prepared for your first full day at the palace?"

"I suppose so," she said, shutting her book with a sigh. "I'm sure it can't be as terrifying as I imagine."

He chuckled under his breath. "I can almost guarantee you'll face nothing so taxing as an abduction attempt."

She screwed up her face. "You would not make that promise so lightly if you had spent any length of time in the company of the queen's ladies."

"You think you have suffered?" he snorted. "They've spent years throwing their daughters into my path in the hope that I would marry one of them."

She could only manage a weak smile in response. His comment had set her mind back on a track that was fast becoming well worn: why had he chosen her when he had rejected everyone else?

A soft touch on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to meet Loghain's piercing gaze. For a moment she feared her thoughts had somehow shown on her face, but when he spoke his voice was concerned. "Are you alright? Is your back still troubling you?"

"Not at all," she said, smiling in a manner she hoped was reassuring. "I'm only nervous."

"You will manage."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," she said drily.

"I would not have asked you to come if I thought you unequal to the challenge."

She smiled and thanked him, this time sincerely. When he finished dressing she rose and shook the creases out of her skirts, silently girding herself for what was certain to be a long and tiring day. He opened the door and she strode into the hallway with grim determination, ready to face not just her first day in the palace but every day between now and the time she received word from Fergus.

She started the day convinced that she would not be able to stop thinking about her brother and what he might uncover at Highever, but over the following days the buzzing activity of the palace absorbed her entirely. While she could never quite forget about Fergus, he did not occupy her every thought. She was too consumed with trying to fathom the routines of the palace and how she fit into them.

The court was not an easy place to navigate. She might be able to handle unsophisticated, predictable men like Dolan but the nobles of the capital were different creatures entirely. For the first time she realised how sheltered her life at Highever had been. Nothing in her political education had prepared her for the machinations of the courtiers, their ceaseless plotting and cutthroat ambition masked behind inviting smiles. Things were simpler at home. Her parents certainly omitted to tell her things, but they were honest whenever they could be. Sometimes embarrassingly so. She had long since lost count of the amount of times she had fled a gathering, cheeks flaming, after a very public castigation from her mother about her reluctance to find a husband.

Anora was the best of them all, a consummate player. Elissa had no idea where she had learned the skill because her father certainly did not possess it. He doubtless had schemes of his own, perhaps known only to himself. But he made no attempt to cultivate friendship or stroke the egos of already arrogant courtiers. Perhaps the queen had inherited the talent from her mother. The warm smile Elissa had been favoured with upon her arrival invited confidences, so that sometimes even the wiliest of the queen's ladies would be coaxed into admitting something that was not to her advantage. For those who looked closely enough, Anora's eyes betrayed her. They were lit by a fierce intelligence, and they never ceased to study the people who surrounded her.

For her own sake, Elissa tried to maintain a certain distance from Cailan lest Anora think she had designs on him. The resolution was easier made than kept. He was at pains to make her comfortable in her new home, seeking her out at every gathering to put her at ease. At a particularly jovial luncheon, when one of the queen's ladies called for dancing, he sidled up to her and said, "Would you care to dance, mother?"

She choked on her wine. "Mother?" she spluttered. "I am younger than you!"

"Yet you are my mother by marriage." He extended his hand to her, eyes twinkling. "Come, take pity on a poor orphan."

Somehow, against her better judgement, she found herself placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her in a dance. From then on she thawed to him. She still tried to avoid him wherever possible but she came to realise that trying to keep him at a distance was futile. It only spurred him on in his attempts to win her over.

Throughout everything, her one constant was Loghain. His duties kept him away from her for much of the day, but he always found time to answer the many questions she inevitably thought of. Few had such a firm grasp on the relationships and intrigues of the court, and a portion of each evening was dedicated to helping Elissa sift through them. Even so, he had hinted at Gwaren that he wanted her to play an active part in politics rather than act as a passive observer. Yet he never confided anything to her that was not common knowledge. Was he allowing her time to adjust or did he simply not trust her?

When she said something that made him laugh, or when she raised her face to his in silent invitation, she founded herself scrutinising him, trying to fathom what motives lay behind his impenetrable expression.

It might have felt like an eternity, but Elissa did not have to wait long for word from Highever. The parcel from Fergus arrived a fortnight after his departure. A servant delivered it discretely into Elissa's hands while she was on her way to Anora's chambers. Biting her lip, she dithered uncertainly in the corridor. She couldn't keep Anora waiting but neither could she guarantee that she would have the privacy to read her letter later on. Making a quick decision, she called the servant back. "I need you to take a message to the queen."

"Yes, my lady."

"Tell her I am too ill to attend her at present and beg her forgiveness on my behalf." She reached into her purse and drew out a generous measure of silver. The servant's eyes widened as Elissa pressed the coin into her hand. "For your assistance and earlier service to me. I trust that news of this," she gestured to the slight bulge in her dress where she had concealed the package, "won't find its way into palace gossip."

"I know when to hold my tongue, my lady," she replied, eyes twinkling.

"If that is so I may call on you to run errands for me in the future. You will be compensated for the additional work, of course."

The woman thanked her profusely, pocketing her payment. She dipped into a curtsey and hurried away to the queen's chambers. Elissa left at her own brisk pace, worried that someone might come across her if she lingered. She was grateful to have found an obliging servant. Although not an experienced intriguer, she knew the value of cultivating servants. The woman could prove useful if for some reason her legitimate methods of communication were compromised. Her thoughts did not linger long on that prospect before returning to her hidden bundle.

Throwing open the door, she was confronted by her alarming reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. The colour was high in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. She looked almost feverish, which could only be to her advantage should Anora send someone to inquire after her health. She shut the door firmly and, after a moment of consideration, drew the bolt.

Settling herself into a chair, she retrieved the parcel from the folds of her dress and tore off its wrappings. It was a carved wooden box useful only for storing jewellery or small keepsakes. Opening the lid, she eagerly seized the rolled up paper inside. As she read the missive, however, her browed creased in a deep frown. It was a note explaining that the box was a belated wedding gift from Oriana. There was no mention of marriage schemes or her parents, nothing at all that could be of use to her.

She flopped against the back of her chair, stomach knotting in disappointment. Why would Fergus send her this? More importantly, why would he waste money and resort to unorthodox sources to get it to her so quickly? It was entirely too strange, she thought as she drummed her fingers absently against the box. An idea, highly unlikely but her only hope, occurred to her. She ran her fingers along the seams of the box, searching for something unusual. There was a slight bulge beneath the satin lining. Heart pounding, she slit the material and groped blindly inside. Her fingers brushed paper and she grasped, pulling a second letter out into the open.

It was written in Fergus's hand but the script was scrawled and hurried. He had addressed it "Dear Lissy" and the use of the nickname, used only when he was worried or feeling particularly affectionate, alerted her immediately that something was wrong.

_Dear Lissy, _

_I apologise for this cloak and dagger nonsense, but I couldn't risk sending this openly. Better to be too cautious than too lax. You were right. This will come as a shock (or perhaps not, I don't know how much you have already guessed), but our parents were considering marrying you to Cailan. Arl Eamon wishes to supplant the queen and his first choice was you. Before the plan could proceed, Loghain proposed and you accepted. _

_I don't know what this means for you, Lissy, but I'm worried. Remember what I said – Highever will always be your home. _

_Ever your loving brother, _

_Fergus. _

It felt like someone had yanked the carpet from beneath her feet. Suspecting such a scheme was one thing, knowing it for certain a different matter entirely. In the space of seconds her position had become immeasurably more insecure. If Loghain had married her only for Anora's sake, she thought, rolling the letter in her hands and nearly tearing it, what was to stop him setting her aside if the queen ever produced an heir? Even if that never happened, it was highly unlikely that she would ever be entrusted with any real power or responsibility. She would be trapped in the palace or sent to rot at Gwaren, denied the important positions that her name and abilities demanded.

Illogical as it might be, she felt betrayed. Her marriage had been based on convenience and good sense, but she had thought it was developing into something deeper. Even her parents had played her false, toying with her life without so much as hinting about it. The only person she felt she could trust was Fergus, and he was miles away. She was weighed down by the knowledge that she was surrounded by people who neither cared for nor trusted her.

She knew she needed to calm down, to focus and try to plan her next step, but at the moment it was beyond her. Struggling to breathe, she scrambled to her feet and fled through the door. She did not know where she was going, only that she needed to get away from the oppressive atmosphere of the palace and breathe clean, cool air. In her haste to escape she left the jewellery box in plain sight, Fergus's letter lying open on top of it.


	7. A Theft

Elissa toyed with the food on her plate, sickened by the mere thought of placing a morsel in her mouth. Her stomach churned too hard for her to contemplate eating. She wanted to flee the dining hall and hide in her chambers. It had been a long, draining day and the thought of her bed was extremely tempting, although she doubted she would be able to sleep if she tried. One thought circled endlessly around her mind, driving away all chance of rest.

Fergus's letter was gone.

When she had returned to her bedchamber the box still lay open where she had left it, but the letter was nowhere in sight. She had searched everywhere but after turning out the contents of every drawer was forced to accept that it was gone. Through a wave of panic she struggled to think rationally. The most important thing was to figure out who had taken it. Not a servant, certainly. They might spy for wealthy patrons but the punishment for stealing from a noble was too severe for most to contemplate it. Later, when Loghain returned, she became convinced that he wasn't the culprit either. There was no change in his attitude towards her, and she was almost certain he would tackle the issue head on if he knew what she had discovered. That meant the thief must be a resident of the palace, in all likelihood a noble. But which one? There were dozens here and she had no idea how to find the culprit amongst them.

The fork slipped from her numb fingers and she winced as it clattered noisily against the plate. Without looking she could feel the weight of Loghain's gaze upon her, hardly surprising given her haggard expression. She made no move to reassure him. At the moment she couldn't bring herself to care whether he was worried; she had more important things to think about.

In the wrong hands (and in the palace that applied to almost everybody) that letter could cause untold damage. To Loghain, Anora, her parents. Even Cailan would not escaped unscathed even though he had sent a disgraced Eamon from the palace for seeking to supplant Anora. She wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards any of them and was tempted to let them drown in the mess they had created. But the sense of duty instilled in her since birth won out over her petty desire for revenge. Not that her motives were entirely altruistic. She stood to lose a lot of face if this scandal came out: the proud daughter of the Couslands married to keep her out of the king's sight should he develop a wandering eye. She could well imagine the titters of the queen's ladies, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She reached for her goblet of wine, almost knocking it over in her haste. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Loghain rise and someone else take his place, but she paid no attention until the queen murmured in her ear. "You still look ill, Elissa. Are you sure you should be out of bed?"

"I assure you, your Majesty, I am quite well."

"If you are certain," said Anora dubiously. "I was worried when you could not attend me earlier. I sent Lady Adelaide to inquire after your health, but she said you were not in your chambers."

Elissa hurried to disguise her cynical smile, wondering whether Anora suspected her of having secret trysts with Cailan. "I thought that fresh air might..." she trailed off as Anora's words sank in. "Might refresh me," she finished hurriedly. "Lady Adelaide, you say? Would you be so kind as to point her out for me? I have a terrible memory for faces."

Anora gave her a small smile. "It is hard to keep track of everyone, but you will develop a skill for it in time." She discretely pointed to a woman seated at one of the lower tables. Elissa vaguely recognised her from the queen's presence chamber. Her face was framed by a tumble of dark curls, her green eyes watchful. She was one of the women who had worked hard to ingratiate herself with the powerful and influential teyrna. Of course she would leap at the chance to speak to Elissa privately and it was entirely plausible that, finding her absent, she would pick up the letter left in plain sight.

"I-I recall her now," stammered Elissa. "I believe you were right earlier, your Majesty. I think that bed is the best place for me at the moment."

Anora nodded approval. "I am glad you have seen sense. It is quite clear you are not fit to be on your feet. Go to, Elissa, and don't concern yourself with my father. I will tell him where you have gone."

Elissa murmured her thanks, relieved that she would not have to make excuses to Loghain. She forced herself to leave at a sedate pace, conscious of how peculiar she must look leaving so early in the evening. In the corridor her pace quickened and she had to resist the urge to bite her nails, a nervous habit her mother had broken her of years ago. Adelaide was the thief, she was sure of it, but she had no idea how to proceed. Under no circumstances could she confront her directly, the potential for disaster was too great. The most logical step would be to search her room while she was occupied, but she hadn't the slightest clue where it was or an excuse for being there should she be caught.

Luck had favoured her when Anora mentioned Adelaide, and it struck again as she almost walked into the servant who had delivered Fergus's letter. "You!" she cried delightedly. The woman flinched as if expecting a reprimand and Elissa rushed to reassure her. "I'm sorry for startling you, I am just so happy to see you. Your name?"

"Meryl, my Lady," she mumbled.

"Meryl. Do you recall that I said I may have work for you in the future? Well, though it is sooner than I anticipated, I have a job for you if you wish to earn some gold."

"_Gold?"_

"Yes, you will be rewarded in sovereigns."

"What must I do, my Lady?"

"You know of a noble called Lady Adelaide?" Meryl nodded. "Good. She has stolen some of my family correspondence and it must be returned to me. I need you to search her room for it."

Meryl began to shake her head, eyes wide. "My Lady, it is too dangerous! If anyone caught me thieving..."

"Five sovereigns," said Elissa hastily. "And you will not be caught. Lady Adelaide will be in the dining hall for at least another hour."

Meryl caught her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes darting around the corridor as if searching for spies. "Five sovereigns?"

"I swear it."

She nodded hesitantly and Elissa released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. "Thank you, Meryl. The letter is addressed to Lissy and signed from my brother, Fergus. Come to my chambers tomorrow morning to bring me what you find. Now you must make haste. _Go._"

* * *

Breakfast came and went without sign of Meryl. Elissa stayed in her chambers, sending word to Anora that she was too weak to attend her, and tried to distract herself with a series of books. Her mind would not would not focus, her eyes constantly slipping from the text to stare at the door. What if Meryl had been discovered and thrown out of the palace? What if she had betrayed Elissa to Lady Adelaide? She had almost made up her mind to go in search of her when the time the tentative knock at the door came. She rushed to answer it but, remembering she was supposed to be ill, forced herself to walk slowly. Her breath rushed out in a sigh of relief as she saw her visitor was Meryl.

She ushered her in. "Did you find it?" she asked excitedly, but her heart sank as she took in Meryl's pale, unhappy face. "Ah. You didn't."

"I searched the whole room, my Lady, I swear," she said in a rush. "It wasn't there."

"It's not your fault. You did what I asked of you," said Elissa, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She rummaged in her drawer and drew out a leather pouch, holding it out to Meryl. As she sat heavily in a chair she was barely conscious of the woman's babbled thanks. She needed to plan her next move but didn't know where to turn. The obvious culprit was apparently innocent and, unless luck struck again, there were no clues to lead her to the true thief. She had almost forgotten about Meryl until the servant began to speak hesitantly.

"Do you think she might keep it on her?"

"Hmm?" said Elissa, stirring from her thought. "Oh, it's certainly a possibility." In Adelaide's position she would not feel safe even with the letter locked away. She would want to keep it with her at all times, hidden against her skin. "But that would make retrieving it almost impossible." There was no subtle way of asking Adelaide to disrobe.

Meryl hesitated, nervously wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, before venturing, "Not _impossible_, my Lady."

Elissa's head perked up at the servant's tone, and she watched her closely. "Do you know something that might help me?"

"I think so. Lady Adelaide likes to visit The Pearl."

"The Pearl?"

"It's..." Meryl's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. "Well, it's a brothel, my Lady."

"Oh. Now _that _is interesting."

"Everyone knows," Meryl rushed on. "All the servants do, anyway. She visits on the same day each week, always after most of the nobles have gone to bed. If you send someone there tonight, maybe they could find a way to get the letter while she is... busy."

"Meryl, I could kiss you! The Maker smiled on me when I met you." She went to the lockbox where she kept ready money and drew out another two sovereigns, which she forced into an agape Meryl's hand. "Where is this place? Could you give me directions?"

After Meryl had dictated directions and was shown out, Elissa began to prepare. She felt peculiarly good. Not exactly happy, but exhilarated. Inactivity didn't suit her. The crisis was far from over but at least now she could play an active role in resolving it. She would not send an agent on her behalf, as Meryl had suggested, but would go herself. There was no time to hire someone and she wouldn't trust this task to anyone else even if she had weeks to prepare. As at Gwaren when she had been faced with the threat of Dolan, she rose to the challenge.

The rest of the day was spent in preparation for her night time excursion. Her armour (for she knew better than to stray outside the palace alone with only silk for protection) was retrieved from her trunk and hidden behind a chest of drawers. The last thing she wanted was for a squeaking hinge to wake Loghain and give her away. Meryl's directions were pored over until she knew them by heart. Most importantly, a bulging pouch of gold was hidden in a secret pocket of her cloak.

She had been excused from her duties to give her time to recuperate, which turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. Making polite conversation over dinner would have been beyond her, but she desperately wanted to roam the grounds to rid herself of some of the nervous energy that plagued her. Once her preparations were complete time slowed to a crawl. After a servant had cleared away her almost untouched dinner, she undressed and climbed into bed. It would probably be hours before Loghain returned, but she didn't want him to come back early and catch her off guard.

As midnight approached she heard the door open and burrowed deeper into the sheets, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths. Loghain moved around the room with his customary quietness, the only sound a soft rustling as he shed his clothes. Silence descended and she was suddenly sure of being watched. When Loghain's hand alighted on her brow she almost flinched but managed to stay still. He pressed the back of his fingers against her forehead, perhaps checking her temperature, and pushed an errant lock of hair out of her face. When she showed no sign of stirring his hand disappeared and a moment later she felt the mattress dip under his weight.

It felt like hours passed before his breathing deepened and she was as certain as she could be that he was asleep. Cautiously, she slid out of bed and fetched her armour from its hiding place. It took her twice as long as it usually would to dress as the slightest noise from the bed made her freeze. When the last buckle was fastened she slid her daggers into their sheaths, double checked that the gold was where she had left it and fastened her cloak around her shoulders.

Conobar rose from what was fast becoming his customary place by the fire and slunk over to her, head hanging low. He didn't make a sound but his disapproval was palpable. As far as he was concerned, his mistress shouldn't be abroad at night without him at her side. She gave him a stern look and he shifted unhappily from paw to paw. Relenting, she crouched and stroked him. "We talked about this," she whispered. "You have to stay here. It will look suspicious – well, _more _suspicious – if he wakes up and finds both of us gone."

He whined in the back of his throat but sat down and regarded her with an almost comical look of longsuffering. Smiling, she ruffled his ears gently and slipped out of the room.

Leaving through the main doors where everyone could see her seemed unwise, so she opted to walk through the kitchens. There were very few people there so late, and those who were still awake were too exhausted from a long day of work to pay her much attention. Outside of the palace district she was uncertain of herself. She remembered little from her first trip to Denerim and she had certainly never visited an establishment like The Pearl. Fortunately Meryl's directions turned out to be accurate and, after a couple of false turns, she came to the building that had been described to her.

There was no chance for hesitation at the threshold. The door swung open, avoiding hitting her by less than an inch, and one of The Pearl's patrons stumbled into her. She regained her balance, waving away the man's hands as he tried to help her. "I'm sorry, miss," he mumbled.

"Think nothing of it."

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice, eyes searching her face in the shadows cast by her hood. Elissa didn't notice his close attention, brushing past him into the building. Inside it was surprisingly welcoming, pleasantly warm after the chilly autumn air and furnished with simple wooden chairs. She glanced around, searching for someone who might be in charge. There were a few of what she assumed were customers, sitting alone rather than in groups, and two women behind the bar. Deciding that she wouldn't get anywhere just standing there, she approached one of them.

"Excuse me, are you the..." she bit her lip, searching for the appropriate word. "Proprietor?"

The woman grinned. "That I am, sweetheart. What can I get for you tonight? A drink? A man? Or perhaps a woman?"

"Erm... no. Thank you. I have a somewhat unorthodox request."

"We cater to all tastes here."

"Not _that _kind of - Never mind. Perhaps we could sit down and talk it over?"

The woman took a step back and ran her eyes over Elissa, taking in the expensive cut of her cloak and high quality armour. Clearly deciding she was worth the time, she held out her hand for Elissa to shake. "Sanga," she introduced herself perfunctorily. "Would you prefer to speak privately?"

"Please," she said gratefully.

Sanga nodded and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to follow. She led Elissa to an empty room behind the bar and left her there, reappearing after a few moments with wine and glasses. Taking a cautious sip, Elissa was forced to stifle an appreciative moan. This was better than the vinegar that had been served to her at some noble houses. More importantly, Sanga's willingness to part with the expensive alcohol showed that she was taking her seriously. The proprietor took a generous mouthful, perhaps wishing to show that the wine had not been tampered with, and then set the glass aside. "This unusual request..."

"Ah." Elissa copied her hostess and relinquished her wine with a mute look of regret. "It concerns one of your regular clients, a noble called Lady Adelaide. I have reason to believe she has stolen documents concealed in her clothes. This seems like an excellent place to retrieve them."

Immediately Sanga shook her head, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "I don't meddle in politics."

"It is not a question of politics, more of a personal matter." It wasn't entirely a lie; it was intensely personal for Elissa. "Besides, I wouldn't expect you to assist me without reward." She dug into her pocket and threw a bulging pouch onto the table.

Sanga reached for it and casually peered inside. She couldn't quite disguise the quick upward flick of her eyebrows; twenty sovereigns was no sum to sniff at. Even so, she sat back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap. "That is indeed generous, but you must understand that the lady represents a long term investment. She could be a valuable customer for decades to come, but she'll be less inclined to spend her coin here if she thinks we're a house of pickpockets."

"I can give you more than money."

"Oh?" Sanga looked at her with undisguised scepticism.

"I can offer you protection. I am powerful, far more so than Lady Adelaide. Surely you must encounter trouble from time to time?"

Sanga nodded. "The authorities like to see how far they can push us, particularly when it comes to taxes."

"I could make life much easier for you."

"And how will I appeal to you for help when I don't know your name?"

Elissa bit down on a grin. It was a clumsy attempt to discover her identity and, she guessed from Sanga's half smile, not a serious one. She avoided it smoothly. "I will set up an intermediary, of course."

Sanga made a show of considering the offer but Elissa was almost certain she had already made up her mind to accept it. Her eyes were fixed too firmly on the pouch of gold though her hands remained almost demurely folded in her lap. Finally she grabbed the gold and it disappeared into her dress. "If I don't hear from this intermediary soon, I'll start asking embarrassing questions at the palace," she warned.

Cold terror gripped her at the thought that Sanga had somehow discovered who she was, but she told herself not to be ridiculous. Her own boast of power had made it obvious that she lived at the palace. Hoping that none of her panic had shown on her face, she forced herself to reply with calm assurance, "They will contact you within a week."

"Good enough." Sanga rose. "I'm looking for documents, you say?"

"A letter."

"Wait here." At the door she paused and, smirking, glanced over her shoulder at Elissa. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some entertainment while you wait?"

"I'm quite certain, thank you."

"As you wish."

The moment the door swung shut Elissa buried her face in her hands and wondered whether she was making a mistake. A one off, anonymous payment to a brothel was one thing, but a lasting arrangement could do her serious harm. Adding to the problem was she had no one to act as the promised intermediary. The few names she knew in the city were connected to her family or Loghain, and couldn't be trusted not to relay news to their masters. But what other choice did she have? This was the best, if not the only, chance she had of retrieving the letter.

As the minutes crawled by she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was not what she had expected in a brothel. Where were the plush velvet sofas from the stories? There was nothing sensual or inviting about the hard wooden bench she sat on. Despite her discomfort, and the anxiety that continued to gnaw at her, as the candle steadily burned down her eyelids began to grow heavy. Several times she lost the battle to keep them open and her head lolled forwards, the sudden movement jolting her unpleasantly awake. If she balled up her cloak she could make a half decent pillow. It was a tempting thought but she reluctantly dismissed it. This was not a wise place to lower her guard.

The candle had burned down a full mark by the time Sanga returned. From her pocket she produced a crumpled piece of paper and held it out to Elissa, who had to restrain herself from snatching it. She could tell just from a glance that it was her letter; Fergus's writing was unmistakeable. Still, she had to read it twice before she could allow herself to believe it. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

Sanga's smile held a hint of genuine warmth. "We aim to please." Her eyes took on a steely glint though her voice remained light. "I'll expect to hear from you soon."

"Of course. Now if you will excuse me, I think I will finally be able to rest easy."

Standing aside to let her pass, Sanga chuckled softly. "Sleep soundly, sweetheart."

Elissa rushed out of the brothel, letter clutched triumphantly in her hand. The moment she reached the palace she would rip up the wretched thing and burn the pieces. Perhaps tomorrow she would single out Lady Adelaide for special attention, and smile sweetly as the courtier stared at her and wondered whether this young newcomer had been the one to outmanoeuvre her. The idea made her chuckle darkly, but her laughter turned into a yelp as she was grabbed by the arm and yanked into a dark alley. Her captor released their grip immediately, leaving her to stumble into a wall. She whirled around so that her back was against the cold brick and unsheathed her dagger, holding it low out of the sight of any assailants. Eyes straining, she probed the darkness for signs of movement.

"If you are going to visit a brothel, Elissa, you should be more discrete."

Loghain. Her legs turned weak with relief and she sagged against the wall. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in and that, coupled with the knowledge of the letter crumpled in her fist, set her heart pounding again.

"Is this what you have been doing?" he continued coldly. "Have you been using you _illness_," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "as an excuse to cavort with whores?"

"How did you know I was here?" she demanded. "Did you send someone to spy on me or were you planning to – how did you put it? – cavort with whores?"

"One of my men saw you going in and reported back to me."

"Convenient," she sneered.

He loomed over her, his usually cool eyes burning with fury. "You dare to question _my _honesty?"

For all that he was much larger than her, she did not back away. "I have no need to question it, Loghain Mac Tir, I already know you for a liar and a schemer." Her voice was dangerously calm and she struggled to control the violent trembling that shook her small frame. The strain of the last fortnight – the tension of waiting for Fergus's answers, the confirmation of her worst suspicion and the theft of the dreadful letter – had exhausted her and wracked her nerves. Standing in a filthy alley listening to her husband accuse her of dallying with whores was pushing her past the limits of her patience. The violent swirl of emotions was fast narrowing into one feeling: anger. Her hands twitched, itching with the barely restrained urge to strike Loghain. She was Elissa of Highever and Gwaren, bent her knee only to royalty, and Maker help the man who treated her with anything less than the respect she deserved.

"I am here to clean up the mess you have made. I am here to protect you! Not to mention your daughter and my parents. I don't know why, Maker knows none of you deserve it." Her voice was growing steadily louder. A small voice in her mind begged her to stop. This was not the way to resolve problems, she did not shriek like a wildcat, but she was too far gone to listen to reason. "You're all liars, pretending to care about people while you play with their lives for your own ends. I should have let the scandal have you!"

His frown had grown steadily deeper as she talked, and he was watching her with a look that quite clearly said she had taken leave of her senses. "I don't know-"

"Don't," she hissed. "I don't want to hear another lie from you." She thrust the crumpled letter against his chest. "If you are as ignorant as you claim, perhaps this will enlighten you."

Without waiting for a response she turned on her heel to return to the palace, leaving him standing alone in the alley.


	8. Honest Conversations

As she stalked through Denerim, Elissa was aware of little but the jumbled emotions that made her stomach churn. The initial anger faded to be replaced by tears that she refused to let fall, and they gave way to a deep weariness. She wanted the comfort of warm sheets and pillows, and Conobar curled up nearby. Her wish was delayed by several wrong turns, her inattention taking her to an area of the city she had never visited before. Tears of frustration burning her eyes, she retraced her steps almost all the way back to The Pearl before she recognised her surroundings. By the time she reached the palace the day's first light was beginning to streak the sky. Clearly she would be absent from the queen's chambers for another day, but today she would not send word to explain her failure to attend to her duties. There was no need; Loghain would almost certainly tell his daughter everything that had passed during the night.

When she finally let herself into their dimly lit bedroom Loghain was not there, and she could not decide whether to be grateful or furious that he had stayed away . Conobar, however, was there to greet her. He nudged anxiously at her hand, sensing her mood and seeking assurance that she was unhurt. She unbuckled her armour with fumbling fingers, stacking it in an untidy pile on the floor. It was an unforgiveable way to treat her best set of amour but at the moment she could not muster the energy it would take to put it in its proper place.

Forgoing her nightdress, she crawled into bed in just her smallclothes. Years before, Conobar had been forbidden from ever sleeping on his mistress's bed by a horrified Nan. Tonight he was worried enough to break that long held restriction, jumping up on the mattress to lie at Elissa's side. She tried to murmur something soothing but her words emerged as an incoherent jumble. The constant anxiety of the last two days, not to mention her trip to one of Denerim's less than reputable establishments, had taken its toll on her. Despite the furious confrontation with Loghain and the new concerns that now weighed her down, within moments Elissa sank into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.

She was woken hours later by the quiet click of the door closing. Cracking an eye, she saw that someone had left her a steaming tub of water and a plate of food. She wanted to cocoon herself in the warm blankets and retreat back into sleep, but the smell of freshly cooked meat made her stomach clench with hunger. Grumbling about her own lack of restraint, she rolled out of bed and winced as her feet hit the cold flagstones. She didn't bother to dress, diving straight for the food. It was a meat pie, normally far too heavy for her taste but now just what she needed after two days of only picking at her food. She ate it standing in her smallclothes, licking up the gravy that dripped from the pastry and burned her fingers. She saved the crusts for Conobar and it was only when she turned to give them to him that she realised he was gone. She hoped that it was a servant and not Loghain who had taken him. With how she felt towards her husband at the moment, her faithful mabari was likely to take a large chunk of flesh out of his hand.

Shedding her undergarments, she stepped into the blissfully hot bath. Small shivers worked their way up her spine as she allowed herself to sink beneath the water. She reached for the glass bottles that had been left on the floor and found sweetly scented lotions for her hair and skin. She poured some into her hands and massaged it into her scalp, allowing the fragrance and warm water to ease the rigid tension of her muscles. As long as she lathered and rinsed, her mind remained pleasantly blank. When she allowed her head to rest against the rim of the tub, sodden hair trailing drips over the floor, she couldn't prevent her thoughts from turning to the night's events. She didn't want to think about it but her thoughts invariably returned to it, like a child prodding a scab.

After all she had risked to protect him, Loghain had stormed out of the palace to hurl terrible accusations at her. Admittedly he hadn't known about the letter and her endeavours to retrieve it, but she was appalled he thought it conceivable that she would feign illness to be unfaithful to him. A word from one of his men was all it had taken to convince him to think the worst of her. She was surprised and more than a little angry that, after how he had deceived her, his lack of trust could hurt her so much.

She stood abruptly, slopping water onto the floor. She couldn't sit still a moment longer or she would fall into moping. Instead she would dress and spend the afternoon reading in the hope that it would keep her mind occupied. A small voice argued that hiding in her room all day was dangerously close to sulking, but she ignored it. She had done enough for the Mac Tirs; they could let her rest.

No sooner had she donned a gown than there was a knock at the door. She froze, irrationally anxious that it might be Loghain. But that was ridiculous: even if he felt contrite, he would not knock to be let into his own room. When she opened the door, what she found was a bigger surprise than a cowed Loghain.

"May I come in?" asked Anora.

Elissa blinked stupidly for a moment before coming to her senses. "Of course, your Majesty." Anora entered and refused the seat that was offered to her, though she insisted that Elissa sit.

Anora waited long enough to exchange the smallest of pleasantries before coming to the true purpose of her visit. "My father informs me that I have much to thank you for," she said abruptly.

Elissa sat back, startled by both the sudden change in topic and Anora thanking her. She had assumed that Loghain would confide in Anora, but she hadn't expected that what he said would earn her the queen's gratitude. "That is a surprise, your Majesty. Last time we spoke he was not at all pleased with me."

"He has not told me all of what happened. In truth, I believe even he does not know as much as he would like. But he is certain that you have prevented a..." Anora frowned, searching for a polite way to describe a wretched situation, "a delicate matter from becoming widely known. Is that true?"

"It is."

"Then I owe you my thanks."

She decided to take a gamble, hoping that Anora's gratitude would extend to a reward."If you truly wish to thank me, your Majesty, may I ask a boon?"

"Of course. Speak your wish," said Anora immediately, as if she had been waiting for the request. It occurred to Elissa that as queen she must hear such requests frequently, and was probably more comfortable on this familiar ground. It could not be easy for her to feel indebted to a woman she considered a threat.

The queen probably expected her to ask for a show of favour or the advancement of a pet cause, but her request was more unusual. Meeting Anora's eyes she said with as much calm authority as she could muster, "An honest conversation."

Anora's lips twitched. "I'm sure the foundations of the palace would not crumble if we were to speak freely."

"Good." She took a steadying breath and, before sense could silence her, said in a rush, "Then I need you to understand that I have no designs on Cailan. I do not wish to ensnare him and win a crown."

"Perhaps you're sincere now but you are very young, Elissa." Elissa couldn't help but gawp incredulously at this. After all, Anora was not much older than her. Anora either didn't notice or chose to ignore it."In time your wishes may change."

"With respect, your Majesty, I have always known my place in the world and what I could aspire to if I wished it. I never have." It was true that she had never sought Cailan, but a few months ago it had not been beyond the realms of possibility that she would marry into a royal family outside of the kingdom. With Cailan married and possessing no children or siblings, marriage to one of the powerful and popular Couslands would have been the best way to form an alliance with Ferelden. If she placed ambition above all else – her love for her family and her native land – she would have persuaded her parents to seek a royal match years ago.

"Your parents thought differently," Anora returned.

"Being childless I am admittedly no expert, but it seems plain to me that parents will do extraordinary things if it benefits their children." She paused, taking in the sight of the almost imperceptible blush on Anora's cheeks and the downward cast of her eyes. "I'm right, aren't I?" she said softly. "That's why Loghain married me – to protect you."

Frowning, Anora shook her head. It was not a denial of Elissa's accusation but disapproval that she had raised the topic. "That is a conversation you should have with my father."

"I intend to. But, as you can see, he is not here at present so I am asking you." She was seriously overstepping the boundaries of propriety and courtesy but she could not stop herself. For weeks now those closest to her had kept her in the dark, and she would not be denied answers now that someone capable of providing them was standing before her.

Anora stared at her, looking as discomfited as Elissa had ever seen her. She was reluctant to relinquish the information, perhaps because she didn't want to reveal the extent of their scheming or maybe because she found politics far more complicated when polluted with matters of the heart. Elissa was on the verge of assuring her that she wouldn't dissolve into tears when Anora said, "It was a factor, certainly."

Elissa almost cringed. It seemed that even when she thought she had grown used to an idea, having it confirmed had the power to cause fresh hurt. "Thank you," she said quietly, hoping that none of what she felt showed on her face.

If she had not been able to conceal her pain, neither could Anora mask the surprise in her voice."I did not think that you would be grateful for such knowledge."

"I'm not," she said bluntly. "But I appreciate your honesty."

Anora nodded. "It is refreshing to speak candidly from time to time." Her eyes flicked towards the door. It was only a fleeting glance but Elissa caught the gesture and rose to see the queen out, sensing that Anora had reached her limited for unguarded conversation for the day. As she was escorted to the door, Anora said, "Perhaps you could attend me tomorrow?"

"I would be glad to, if you wish it."

"I do."

At the door she paused and, with hard eyes and mouth set determinedly, turned to face Elissa. "Remember this: I did not want you here, Elissa." The unprompted confession was made without a sign of shame or embarrassment. She did not flush or look away, instead meeting Elissa's eyes steadily. "I wanted you safely hidden at Gwaren. Even though I was furious and all but forbade it in my letters, my father still invited you here. That is an honour my mother was not afforded in all their years of marriage." She was not quite able to prevent a small note of bitterness from creeping into her voice. Her father might be willing to sacrifice much for her, but it seemed that there were some things she could not forgive. Smiling sadly, she nodded to Elissa and took her leave.

The queen gone, she picked up a book at random and resumed her seat. After reading the same sentence a dozen times she was forced to accept that she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Since reading Fergus's letter she had thought that Loghain has asked her to the palace with Anora's approval, if not on her orders. It seemed that instead he had acted against her express wishes. While that knowledge didn't ease the hurt of her brother's revelation, it certainly gave her something to think about. Unless his motives were too obscure for her to decipher, perhaps Loghain had invited her to Denerim because he genuinely wished her to accompany him.

She did not have long to ponder the prospect before she was interrupted again. The door opened to reveal Loghain standing rigidly at the threshold of the room, watching her closely. She resisted the urge to look away, hating that he could make her feel anxious when she had done nothing wrong. Finally he moved properly into the room to stand in front of her chair. She closed her book slowly and set it down in her lap.

"I was mistaken last night," he began.

"That is something of an understatement," she replied. She tried to keep her voice light but she could not prevent some of her ire from seeping into her tone.

"I am sorry for it," he said immediately, and her eyes widened at the so freely given apology. Before she could even open her mouth to respond, however, he continued, "You must see how easily the mistake was made."

She narrowed her eyes, any charitable feelings towards him beginning to vanish. "I see that you had more faith in the word of one of your men than in me."

"That is unfair."

"Last night you threw me into an alley and accused me of hiring prostitutes," she spat. "I would say you're a poor judge of what is fair."

They both fell silent, eyeing each other warily. It was Loghain who, apparently unable to deny his need to know everything that had passed in The Pearl, finally said, "I would like to know what happened last night."

She toyed with the idea of refusing him, of putting him in her position and allowing him to experience a few days of relentless doubt and worry. The thought that it could cause her as much trouble as Loghain's secret had was enough to deter her. Instead she reluctantly recounted the story of the theft of her letter by Adelaide and her efforts to recover it that eventually led her to The Pearl. As her account unfolded Loghain grew steadily more agitated, pacing beside the fire. When she told him about the deal she had struck with Sanga, he could contain himself no longer. "Maker's blood!" he cursed. "What were you thinking, going to that place? Do you have no idea how dangerous it was?"

"I am more than capable of defending myself!" she replied heatedly.

"I am not speaking of physical danger, though Maker knows how many unwary nobles have fallen afoul of that place's clients. I meant the scandal you could have caused. You are part of the most powerful family in the kingdom now. Do you have any idea of the damage it would have caused if you were recognised?"

"_Me_?" she cried. "My parents and Arl Eamon schemed to marry me to Cailan, and you and Anora conspired to put me permanently beyond his reach. All I have done is try to keep the sordid affair secret, yet I am somehow in the wrong."

"I am not questioning your intentions. You were commendably loyal to people who could hardly seemed to have deserved it. But I take issue with how you did it. You were rash, _very _rash, running off to a brothel in the middle of the night."

"What was I supposed to do?" she demanded.

"You could have come to me and we would have found a way to solve the problem together," he said through gritted teeth, as if at the limits of his patience. "I have contacts in the city, people who could have retrieved the letter secretly without having to bargain with madams."

"Do you have no feelings at all? Is all you think of strategy and politics? After everything I had learned, after discovering I was little more than a burden you saddled yourself with for Anora's sake, how could I ever have gone to you?"

He paled at her accusations, flinching minutely as if she had slapped him. "So you would sacrifice this family's reputation for the sake of your wounded pride?" he seethed.

"My pride," she repeated quietly. "Do you honestly believe it was my pride that was injured?" It was a lie to deny that her pride had taken a blow, but it was not the prospect of cruel court gossips that hurt her the most. "I thought you were beginning to care about me, Loghain. I could not talk to you about the very thing that disabused me of that notion."

She turned away, arms wrapped in a protective barrier around her waist. It seemed ridiculous to care so much about something that was meant to be trivial. Noble marriages were about politics and power, a fact that her parents had gently prepared her for from a young age. Her admission felt like a confession of guilt or failure, and left her feeling more vulnerable than she would like to admit.

"I didn't..." began Loghain, but he seemed at a loss for how to finish the sentence. After an almost unbearably long silence Elissa heard the rustle of fabric behind her. When Loghain still said nothing she turned and risked a glance at him to find he was patiently holding a box out to her. "I commissioned this before we came to Denerim," he explained. "I had intended it as a late wedding present, but it seems a fitting way to make my apology."

She glared at him pointedly, hoping he knew her at least well enough to realise that he would not win her favour with gifts. He continued to hold the box out to her, steadily meeting her frosty gaze. Finally she gave in and reluctantly took it. She held the box in the palm of her hand, eyeing it warily. It seemed to her that all this trouble had started with the arrival of a jewellery box, and she wondered whether the contents of this one would wreak as much havoc. But she couldn't stand there all night gawping at the thing. She opened the lid a crack, just enough to see the glimmer of silver inside. Opening it properly, she found a delicate chain. Her eyes widened as they fell on the pendant: the wyvern of Gwaren rearing against the Cousland laurel wreath. The heraldic devices of noble families were almost never combined. Her mother and Oriana were nobles before they married but their heraldry was nowhere to be found at Highever.

"This is mine," he said quietly.

She had been too distracted earlier to notice the new ring he wore. Like her necklace it bore their combined devices. It certainly wasn't as large or bold as hers, but it was a clear declaration of loyalty and a sign of respect. She reached for the necklace but he gently took the box from her hands.

"I don't think you should wear it yet."

"Why not?" she asked warily, unconsciously backing away from him. "You wear yours."

"You have more than proved your loyalty to Gwaren and the crown. To me. I might disagree with how you did it, but I can be proud to wear your emblem. You have been given no such reason to wear mine. When you have, the necklace will be waiting for you."

For the first time all day she was at a loss for words. It was no ordinary thing for a noble to wear another house's heraldry, particularly when they were as powerful and proud as Loghain. Had he chosen the Highever heraldry it would not have touched her so deeply. That might imply some claim on her family's land, a signal of his ambition. But to wear the Cousland coat of arms so openly was a sign of great respect and attachment to her family. Just as amazing, he had admitted that she had proved herself a valuable partner where he had not. "Loghain, that is... almost romantic," she said with quiet astonishment.

He almost smirked. "I trust you will not share my sentiments with half the palace."

"I will make a deal with you: I won't tell everyone of your romantic inclinations if you don't speak of my trip to the brothel."

"An acceptable bargain."

"I am glad you think so."

"And what of this?" He tapped a long finger against the box. "Is this also an acceptable deal?"

It was not all that she wanted, or perhaps even needed. Last night had confirmed something she had long known: she did things wholeheartedly. Before her wedding day she had accepted that she was marrying for convenience and not love. It was the fate of most nobles, after all. For those graced with good fortune, like her parents, an arranged match could turn into a long standing partnership based on love and respect. She had his respect, that much was clear, but she could not be happy forever without tenderness. Until it could be built between them, however, she could be content.

Taking his hand, Elissa kissed the ring that bore the heraldry of her kin."For now," she said softly.


	9. Midwinter

Elissa clenched her jaw on a yawn, staring dispassionately at the half embroidered shirt in her lap. The midwinter celebrations were just a few weeks away, and tradition dictated that the palace give away gifts to Denerim's poorer citizens. As such, Anora had set all her ladies to making clothes. Even at her brightest Elissa despised the work, but after a long night spent discussing their marriage with Loghain her eyes were tired and irritable and focusing on the task was all but impossible.

Still, she only needed to last until midday. After the noon meal Anora had a council meeting to attend and would have no need of her ladies for the rest of the day. Even as she thought it, the queen rose from her seat and the room fell silent as the women turned to stare at her expectantly. She smiled at them graciously and said, "Thank you for your company, ladies, but I believe I will dine privately today."

The women darted glances at each other, alarmed by the unexpected announcement. Dining with the queen was a valuable opportunity to jostle for favour. Monarchs could be generous when relaxed by good food and wine, although Elissa doubted that Anora had ever succumbed to such tactics. Even if they didn't manage to wrest anything tangible from her, the queen could greatly improve a woman's standing merely by inviting her to sit nearby.

Ignoring the consternation she had caused, Anora continued, "You are welcome to remain in the solar, of course, but I will lunch in my private chambers." She turned her back on the many pairs of eyes that watched her closely, searching for a clue as to why she had changed the established schedule, and walked unconcernedly to the door that led to her chambers. Pausing on the threshold between the rooms, she glanced over her shoulder and said, " Would you care to join me, Elissa?"

What little chatter there was died away instantly. While it was by no means unusual for a queen to dine privately with a teyrna, most had assumed that Elissa's marriage to Anora's father had led to some animosity between the two women. Anora had never given her such a signal show of favour before. As she rose to follow the queen, demurely murmuring her gratitude for the invitation, she saw with no small amount of satisfaction that Lady Adelaide's face had drained of colour. Of course she would assume that this confidential meeting would have something to do with her scheming. She was glad that the woman would feel a measure of the fear that she had caused Elissa by stealing the letter.

After the door to the solar was firmly shut and they took their seats Anora graced her with a smile that was almost impish. "They will be out of their minds with curiosity about what's happening in this room. I wouldn't be surprised if they were squabbling over which one of them should press their ear to the door."

Elissa would liked to have argued that they would never be so bold, but she knew better. "Who do you think it will be, your Majesty?"

"Oh, undoubtedly Marianne."

Marianne was the lowest ranking woman of the queen's ladies, and her attempts to elevate her family from its relatively low position were so infamous that Elissa had heard of her even before she left Highever. It was said that her efforts were becoming increasingly ruthless as the years passed without advancement. "I cannot disagree with that judgement."

Servants approached the table, laying down steaming bowls of broth. Elissa's stomach growled appreciatively; this was perfect for so cold a day. As the servants retreated, and she dipped her spoon eagerly into the broth, Anora said, "So, Elissa, how fares your ambition today?" Her eyes were fixed on her bowl but Elissa hadn't missed the swift, appraising look the queen had sent her before lowering her gaze.

"No different from yesterday, your Majesty," she replied steadily.

"Why is that?" Anora asked, abandoning the pretext of eating. "Most people at court would , quite literally, kill for a chance to wear my crown, but not you. I am truly intrigued."

Elissa set her spoon down, resigned to the fact that she would not be eating for some time. How to explain her lack of ambition to a woman whose ambition was a vital part of her nature? "I have always been content with my life," she began hesitantly. Her parents had always been happy to remain at Highever, away from the vicious machinations of the court, and their children followed in their footsteps. "Highever was always everything I needed."

"Yet you left it," said Anora bluntly.

"I always knew I must," she said, resisting the urge to add that Anora must have known as much when she was a young girl. It was the fate of many nobles to leave the beloved homes of their childhood. As the second born she had always known that, short of an awful tragedy, Highever would be her brother's and she would have to leave it to marry into another family.

"And is a teyrnir and my father a fitting substitute?"

"I was raised to run a teyrnir. Before I came to court I found the work at Gwaren satisfying. As to your father... Ours is not a perfect union. I'm beginning to suspect that none are. But I believe that given time we could form a strong partnership, and I would not forsake that for the chance to be queen."

Even as she said it she realised she spoke the truth. If she had not believed that Loghain was committed to their marriage then she would have flung the necklace back at him rather than store it safely in her jewellery box where she could look at it whenever she wished. Just that morning, after Loghain had left to seek out Cailan, she had opened the lid to stare down at their combined devices and contemplate what had prompted her husband to do it.

Anora studied her intently, her expression almost wistful. "I must confess to being envious."

"Envious? Of what?"

"Your... feelings for my father play at least some part in preventing you from striving for my throne. I wish I knew what that felt like."

"Don't you care for Cailan?" she blurted. It was perhaps not the wisest question to ask, but this was not a conversation she had ever expected to have with the queen and she had no idea how to proceed.

Anora seemed unperturbed. "Care for him? Certainly. But I have never had to set my affection for him against my ambition. If he had not been destined to be king, I cannot say that I would have chosen him over a crown."

Elissa stared at her in silence, too shocked for words. The queen was famous for sharing very little of what she thought and felt, and this unprompted bout of sharing was completely out of character. Perhaps Anora realised that she had divulged too much for she said suddenly, "But this can be of very little interest to you and I am in danger of forgetting why I wished to speak to you. Although I still have not been informed of the details, you performed a great service for me. I would like you to have a reward."

Surprised by the sudden change of topic Elissa hesitated for a moment before replying, "You have already rewarded me, your Majesty."

Anora waved her hand impatiently. "Come now, Elissa, a single conversation is hardly a fitting payment. I would like to reward you materially."

She opened her mouth to refuse but hesitated with the words on the tip of her tongue. An image of Meryl sprang to her mind. So far the servant had proved valuable, and her suggestion of The Pearl showed that she possessed a measure of cunning. It would pay to keep her close by. She was sure Meryl would prefer life as a lady's maid to that of a general servant. The hours were shorter, the tasks lighter and the pay greater. "There is one thing, your Majesty. I still have not employed a lady's maid. There is a palace servant who has been particularly attentive towards me. I would like her for the job."

If Anora felt any suspicion about the services Meryl had performed for Elissa she gave no sign of it. "I would say that is the least I could do for you." She called for a servant and, after having Elissa give a description of Meryl, dispatched her to find the woman and inform her of her new position.

After that afternoon their private lunches became a daily occurrence, much to the ire of the queen's other ladies. Her increasing closeness to Anora wrought a change in their behaviour. Outwardly they were more ingratiating than ever, but for all their overtures of friendship she felt she could trust them even less than before.

Each of her lunches with the queen began in the same way, with Anora quizzing Elissa on the state of her ambition. When she replied that it was unchanged, as she invariably did, the queen seemed satisfied and moved on. There was never a repeat of the first day's outburst, no more startling confessions from the woman who usually spoke so guardedly. In her less charitable moments Elissa wondered whether that intimate conversation had been a calculated display to win her trust. Her suspicions would have been confirmed beyond doubt had Anora ever asked anything of her but she never did. Most of the time the queen spoke on neutral, even dull, topics. She almost always asked Elissa's opinion of whichever woman was vying particularly hard for favour, probably because she had no one else to consult. In the solar, where neither Loghain nor Cailan ever ventured, Elissa was the closest thing she had to an advisor.

When she was not attending the queen, Elissa's time was largely consumed by Loghain. He seemed determined to prove his sincerity, and he began the day after their confrontation by helping her choose someone to act as her representative to Sanga. It was clear he disapproved of such a long term, dangerous arrangement but, knowing why she had not approached him for help, he kept his opinions to himself. They chose her intermediary together, selecting a merchant who stocked affordable gowns and jewellery. It would not look amiss, they reasoned, if Sanga visited his shop. So far The Pearl's proprietor had not abused her new patron's generosity, asking only that she pay the cost of hiring a new guard to dispense with rowdy patrons, to which she had readily agreed. She had thought that Sanga would be too clever to anger a powerful ally, but until a few weeks passed with no further word from The Pearl she worried daily about blackmail.

As she had no council position she was not allowed to attend their meetings, but Loghain began to share more and more of what was discussed with her. At first she just listened. She might know the theory of politics from books and lessons, but in Highever she'd had very little chance to apply her knowledge. Grudgingly she was forced to admit that Loghain had been right: she could be far too rash and impulsive. Not every problem could be solved with daring chases and sneaking out of the palace by moonlight. So she listened and, as she learned more, began to analyse Loghain's opinions and advance her own. She found herself wanting to seek Anora's view but held back, worried that the queen would see it as some sort of encroachment on her power.

Unlike his daughter, Loghain did not probe daily to see if her opinion had altered. He was patient, more so than she ever could have been in his position, seeming content for her to warm to him in her own time. Warm to him she did, bit by bit, as days stretched into weeks. Every time he returned to their chambers to discuss the day's issues he earned more of her trust. At first she was sceptical, convinced he only sought to curry her favour, but he seemed genuinely interested in her perspective. He certainly didn't always agree with it, but he always elicited her thoughts and discussed them frankly.

To Elissa's delight, there was also a shift in intimate matters between them. Even though they shared a bed every night, Loghain often seemed uncomfortable when she made affectionate gestures towards him during the day. Even small things, resting her head on his shoulder or her hand on his knee, made his back stiffen. After the night of their discussion he began to relax into her touches. She was thrilled with the development until realising that he probably only tolerated it for her sake. This in mind, she ceased the caresses. Rather than being pleased with her withdrawal, as she had expected, Loghain began to instigate small, tender gestures. They never came when they were discussing problems raised at council meetings, but after they had set aside the prominent issues of the kingdom until morning. As they sat by the fire and talked or pored over books or maps he would stroke the nape of her neck or rest his lips against her hair. She puzzled over why, if he enjoyed touching and being touched, he had always seemed so uncomfortable before.

As midwinter approached, and the palace began to prepare for the celebration, she was confined less and less to the solar. The winter solstice was an important occasion. The warmth and life of the spring were still out of reach, but midwinter marked the return of the sun and gradual lengthening of the days. The queen threw herself into preparations for the midwinter celebrations in part, Elissa suspected, to keep her mind from following unpleasant paths. She might allow herself to relax slightly in Elissa's company, but it seemed that Anora couldn't shake the suspicions planted by Eamon's ploy. In public she gave no sign of her uneasiness, but when Elissa and Loghain were invited to dine privately with the royal couple she noticed that Anora watched her husband speculatively, as if trying to fathom what thoughts passed behind his easy going smile.

If Anora did indeed hope to distract herself with work then she succeeded spectacularly. Every morning the queen and her ladies scoured the main hall, covered it in greenery and colourful ribbons and made the decorations that would brighten the tables during the feast. A lot of the women grumbled that it was servants' work but Elissa, reminded of the annual festivities at Highever, enjoyed it.

A few days before the celebrations, Elissa came to a decision. Midwinter would be the day she wore the necklace Loghain had given her. In the past weeks he had gone out of his way to prove himself, sharing information with her that the council would be horrified to learn had travelled outside its chambers. Although she knew it must gall him not to act, he never interfered in her arrangement with Sanga unless she asked it. Their marriage was developing beyond the discussion of tactics and the affairs of the kingdom, the affection between them gradually deepening. Perhaps it had not yet developed into love, but she suspected that it never would until they both wore the combined Cousland and Gwaren heraldry.

When midwinter finally arrived she spent the afternoon before the grand feast driving Meryl to distraction. As she had predicted, the servant was happy in her new position. Not only were her duties lighter, the necessity of being close to her mistress at all times meant that she was allowed to move to her own room in the noble servant's quarters. It might be a small chamber but it was warm and comfortable and she shared it with no one. The drawback of her new role was having to work with Elissa at her most anxious, digging out gowns and jewellery from the deepest part of her chest only to put them back again when her mistress changed her mind.

After much deliberation, and many changes of dress, Elissa chose the red gown she had worn at the oath giving ceremony in Gwaren. She had thought of wearing the dress she had been married in, but the red gown seemed much more appropriate. At her wedding she had felt rather lost, uncertain of how she would fit in with Gwaren and the stranger she was marrying. At the oath giving Loghain had shown that he had faith in her and stood at her side in silent support of her as the new teyrna. She hoped he might realise the significance of her choice. Even if he did not, red – the promise of light in darkness – was fitting for midwinter.

Meryl helped her into the gown and then secured her hair in a thick plait, weaving two scarlet ribbons into it. Once dressed, she seated herself at her dresser and reached for her unworn necklace. She had placed it in the jewellery box sent to her by Fergus. It seemed fitting: Loghain's token housed in a gift from Highever. She opened the lid and stared down at the necklace nestled in its satin lining. Her fingers hovered over the pendant, barely brushing the cool silver. Loghain had given her no reason to doubt his words. Still she feared that wearing his gift would somehow make her vulnerable. Chiding herself, she snatched it up and fastened it around her neck. For a long moment she sat still, staring into the mirror watching the silver glint against her skin. She wondered how Loghain would react when he saw it there.

"My lady?" said Meryl, a hint of concern in her voice.

Elissa shook herself. "I was woolgathering. I'm sorry for keeping you so long, Meryl. You must go and join the celebrations."

"You won't need me, my Lady?"

"I'm sure I can look after myself until tomorrow."

Meryl smiled and bobbed a curtsey before hurrying away, no doubt to the feast or another gathering in the city. Elissa stole a final glance in the mirror, eyes drawn inexorably to the necklace, before following Meryl from the room.

Loghain was waiting for her at the entrance to the main hall. He was talking to a man she recognised from the oath giving, a minor noble who probably had a local matter to discuss with his lord. At the sound of her approach Loghain cut the conversation short, promising to seek out the man in the morning. He turned to face her, eyebrows raised at her lateness, and said, "You have finally decided to join us." His smirk faded as his eyes fell on the necklace. Wordlessly he reached out to touch it but his hand faltered, shying from what would be an inappropriate gesture in such a public place. Unconcerned, she grasped his hand and placed it over the pendant.

"I wished to look my best," she said softly.

He smiled, the pad of his thumb tracing the place where silver met skin . She shivered, the caress raising goosepimples over her arms, and his grin widened. "You do."

Behind them someone coughed pointedly. He dropped his hand, frustration flashing briefly in his eyes, and turned to face the intruder. Elissa felt her smile freeze in place as she saw Arl Howe. She'd had no idea that the arl was in the capital. Seeing him unexpectedly was unpleasant enough, but having him intrude on such an intimate moment made her skin crawl. As he stared at her knowingly she had to resist the urge to cover herself with her arms.

"I see you have found your lovely wife, Loghain," he drawled. Although he spoke to Loghain he kept his eyes fixed on her. She bristled at being addressed in such a manner but, as she had been taught, bit her tongue and forced herself to smile sweetly.

Perhaps he resented having the moment interrupted, or perhaps he cared for the way Howe looked at Elissa as little as she did, but Loghain responded with uncustomary coolness. "So I have. You will excuse us, we're late." So saying, he offered her his arm and brushed past the arl without a second glance.

Elissa did happen to look back at Howe. His smirk had vanished, his mouth now twisted in an expression of deep contempt. As he caught her eye, the anger in his face fell away and was replaced by his former slick smile. "Perhaps we can talk later," he called after them.

She was relieved to see that although Howe followed them to the hall he quickly went his own way to find his seat. As rulers of a teyrnir they were entitled to sit at the head table with the king and queen, but an arl was not. He was driven from her thoughts completely as Cailan greeted them with his customary enthusiasm, slapping Loghain on the shoulder and seizing Elissa in a hug. Anora glared at him pointedly not, Elissa hoped, because the display of affection had unsettled her but because of her husband's general lack of decorum.

Whatever the reason, Cailan seemed not to notice. "How fares my mother this evening?"

"_I am not your mother!" _she whispered furiously, a smile tugging at her lips. Once he had learned how to goad her he had not let it rest. She knew he would grow tired of it if she stopped rising to the bait but she found she enjoyed the gentle bickering too much. It put her in mind of a younger Fergus. Besides which, she hoped that Anora would cease to think Cailan would marry her if he continued to address her as his mother.

The king clutched his chest as if mortally wounded. "You are so dreadfully cruel to me. I should not have bought you a present." He narrowed his eyes, glowering at the rubies glittering at her ears.

"You should not," she agreed in complete seriousness. When he had presented her with the earrings her heart had almost stopped at the thought of how Anora would interpret the gift. It was only when she learned that they were a present from both the king and queen, and that they had also gifted Loghain with a sapphire ring, that she had calmed down. "I am entirely unworthy, your Majesty."

"Oh, hush," he said impatiently. "They look well on you."

"Indeed they do," said Anora, brow furrowing, "but I believe our guests would prefer to spend their time eating rather than watching us bicker over jewellery."

"Quite right, Anora," said Cailan immediately, and offered her his arm to escort her to the head table. Elissa and Loghain followed them, taking seats at the queen's side. When everyone was seated and people at the lower tables turned their eyes to the king, Cailan gave the order for the feasting to commence.

The banquet surpassed any she had experienced before. The food was largely of Ferelden origin (most of the nobles wouldn't tolerate anything else) but there were several Antivan dishes and even a few from Orlais. She had thought that she would be expected to set an example by refraining from eating anything even vaguely Orlesian, but Cailan tucked in with gusto and she decided to follow suit. The most spectacular part of the banquet came when the desserts were brought from the kitchen. The cooks had outdone themselves, creating a magnificent sugar sculpture replica of the palace. No one would dream of ruining it by cutting into it but there were many delicious sweets that they could eat. Throughout the night there was, of course, a free flow of spiced wine to warm them.

Cailan had hired a plethora of entertainment. Musicians and tumblers entertained them while they ate and after the last plates had been cleared away a troupe of players acted out the stories often told at midwinter. When even they tired, and most people had retired to their chambers for the night, Cailan insisted that the few guests who remained draw their chairs around the fire. Made sleepy by wine and too much food, they dragged themselves reluctantly from their seats to comply with his request. Once everyone was seated to his satisfaction he called forth an old woman who had passed the night largely unnoticed. Elissa wondered whether she had worked in the royal nursery when the king was a boy. She was clearly not a noble but, even though Elissa had never seen her work, the palace was her home and its kitchens provided her with as much food as she wished.

At Cailan's urging the woman took the seat next to his. Although it wasn't necessary, as most were too sleepy for conversation, he pleaded for quiet. When the drowsy murmuring had died away he turned to the woman eagerly and nodded. She began to speak. Elissa had heard only a few words before realising that her guess had been correct: this was a woman from Cailan's childhood, someone who had enthralled him with centuries old legends. She spoke of the great king Calenhad, Flemeth the witch and Elissa's own ancestor, Sarim, the first Cousland to rule Highever. She relayed stories of demons that could creep unnoticed into mage's minds and turn them into monsters, of wild witches that could take the form of wolves and crows. Elissa had heard these tales many times before. Although she had no memory of it, she was certain that her parents must have first whispered them to her while she lay in the cradle because she couldn't recall a time when she didn't know them. But listening to them now, spoken in this woman's captivating voice, she could almost imagine she was hearing them for the first time.

The candles had been allowed to gutter out and the room was only lit by the fire. In the dim light Elissa heard rather than saw Loghain rise from his chair. She turned and squinted, trying to see where he had gone, but it wasn't until his hand landed on her shoulder that she realised he stood behind her. Her attention gained, he motioned for her to follow him. She rose as quietly as she could, delicately picking her way around the few drowsy people who remained. As he led her into a part of the room where the shadows grew deeper, she kept her hand on his arm lest she lose him. When he continued to say nothing she began to worry. It was unlike him to creep around silently, and she couldn't help but wonder whether something was wrong. Perhaps something had happened and he wished to draw her away from everyone else to break the news.

It was on the tip of the tongue to ask what was wrong but before she could speak he stopped abruptly, turning to face her. She could see very little of his face, nowhere near enough to read his expression, but his touch was urgent. He encircled her waist with his arm, urging her closer, and cupped her cheek to angle her face upwards. His lips descended on hers in a kiss more intense than she had ever known. While her mind froze in surprise her body responded, arching into him in an effort to get as close as possible. She moaned into his mouth, not caring that she might be heard, and his grip on her waist tightened.

When they parted he bowed his head, resting his lips just above her ear. "Thank you," he murmured, voice too low to carry back to the people crowded around the fire. Repeating his earlier gesture, he placed his hand over her pendant and she raised her own hand to cover it. She leaned into him, grateful for the darkness that concealed her flushed cheeks and exhilarated smile. She could not have dreamed when she first slid the necklace around her neck that he would react so enthusiastically.

When she was certain that her voice would not shake she whispered, "I am glad to see that this," she squeezed his hand lightly around the pendant, "means as much to you as it does to me."

"As am I." He traced the design with his finger. "I did not do this lightly."

"Neither do I wear it lightly."

"Why do you wear it?"

She shook her heard firmly then, realising that he probably couldn't see the gesture, said, "That is a discussion for our bedchamber, not the hall."

She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest. "You are right. I will make our excuses to Anora and Cailan and we shall leave."

"I will wait here for you. Don't keep me waiting too long."

He bent swiftly and kissed her. It was briefer than their first kiss but fuelled by the same heat, and it silently promised that their parting was only temporary. "I wouldn't dream of it." Straightening, he stepped around her and walked briskly back to the fire.

She waited in the shadows, smoothing invisible creases from her gown as she listened to Loghain's fading footsteps. It seemed that less than a minute passed before she felt movement at her side. She turned with a smile, opening her mouth to comment on Loghain's swiftness, but something in the barely visible figure's stance alerted her to the fact that it wasn't her husband. A polite excusal forming on her lips, she took a step back. There was the rustle of fabric and movement glimpsed in the darkness, then something touched her. A finger landed on her throat, brushing gently over the place where her pulse thrummed wildly beneath her skin. The gesture could almost have been mistaken for tender if not for the unmistakeable malice she felt from the stranger. It kept her frozen in place, horrified by the threatening caress, before she came to her senses. Choking back a revolted cry, she swiped at the stranger but both the hand and its owner had withdrawn and she was alone again. She stood for a moment, swaying, before turning and almost running back to the fire.


	10. War

She couldn't tell Loghain. She wanted to, the words ready to tumble from her lips when, unmindful of where she was going, she crashed into him. But when he looked at her so warmly she found that she couldn't do it. With a sudden surge of anger, she swore that she wouldn't let the stranger in the dark ruin what was supposed to be a happy night. So she forced her lips into a semblance of a smile and sank readily into her husband's arms, hoping to erase the memory of that other touch.

Later, when she woke in the dull light of a winter morning trembling from a dream in which invisible hands had grabbed at her, she realised that she could not ignore the incident and hope to forget it. She felt like a coward for being so disturbed by such a small thing but that intimate, threatening touch had left her feeling vulnerable. _Later, _she thought, sliding closer to Loghain and pressing her forehead against his back. _I will tell him later. _

But when she woke again Loghain was gone. There was a perfunctory knock on the door before Meryl entered carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray. From the dark circles beneath her eyes, Elissa guessed that she had overindulged during yesterday's celebrations. "Good morning, my lady," she mumbled, looking queasy as she set the tray on Elissa's lap.

"Do you enjoy Midwinter, Meryl?"

"I did, my lady." She paused before adding, "I think I might have enjoyed it a bit too much."

"In that case, I believe I'll have no further need of you for the rest of the day."

For once Meryl didn't argue and simply thanked her before saying, "Forgive me, my lady, I was meant to pass along a message from Teyrn Loghain. He wishes you to go to him in the council chambers as soon as you're ready."

Elissa paused with a slice of bread halfway to her mouth. "The council chamber? Did he say why?"

"No, my lady."

Elissa all but threw her breakfast aside and scrambled from the bed. "A clean gown, Meryl," she ordered, yanking her nightgown over her head.

Just minutes later she arrived outside the council chambers. She hoped that she would be able to slip in quietly, but everyone except the king and queen rose to their feet as they saw her in the doorway. Every face at the great table that dominated the room looked worse for wear. Like Meryl, many had overindulged the night before. Normally the day after Midwinter was a lazy one. Council meetings were usually postponed until the next day unless they were in a state of emergency. Loghain caught her eye and indicated that she should take the seat next to his, and as she sat down the other councillors resumed their seats.

"Teyrna Elissa is here as her father's representative," Loghain explained.

"Why are the Couslands alone represented?" asked one of the councillors. "If not the banns, should not the arls be here at the very least?"

"No," said Loghain in a voice that would brook no argument. "Highever has the largest force of men outside of Denerim; the Couslands' support is vital."

"If indeed we need it," said Anora. "Nothing is certain yet. We do not wish to cause undue panic when the reports have yet to be confirmed."

"Surely the confirmation is a mere formality," interjected Cailan.

"You should pray to the Maker that the reports are wrong," said Loghain, an unmistakeable edge of impatience to his voice.

Elissa watched the exchange in silent confusion. She had hoped that someone would explain why she had been summoned but, seeing she was in danger of being forgotten in the argument, she discretely tapped Loghain's leg beneath the table. "You speak as if you wish to form an army. Is there to be war?"

"There have been sightings of darkspawn in the south."

"_Darkspawn? _I thought they lived below ground."

"They do," said Cailan, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Except during a Blight. Surely you've heard the tales, Elissa?"

"I would remind you that this is not a tale, Cailan," Loghain all but growled.

Anora shot a reproving glare at Loghain that he returned steadily. Elissa suspected that Anora privately agreed with her father but didn't appreciate him undermining her husband in front of the entire council. "What is to be done?" she asked, hoping to break the tension between father and daughter.

"That is what we 're in the process of deciding," said Loghain.

"We should assemble an army immediately," said the councillor who had questioned Elissa's presence in the chamber.

"Based on unsubstantiated rumours?" asked another. "That is ridiculous."

This remark triggered an outpouring from around the table. It took more than two hours for an agreement to be reached: scouts would be dispatched to the south to investigate the rumours of darkspawn. In preparation for the worst, Denerim's troops would be prepared to march and riders would be dispatched to the nobles ordering them to hold their soldiers in readiness.

Elissa left the council chambers feeling rather drained. The councillors were just as bad as the queen's ladies. Worse, in fact. At least the latter had some subtlety, whereas councillors who nursed grudges and animosities openly insulted their rivals during sessions. She had the sneaking suspicion that she would become far too acquainted with their hostility over the coming weeks. That dismal prospect, coupled with the looming threat of the darkspawn, knocked all thought of the previous night's unsavoury incident out of her mind.

As the scouts crept from the city, preparations began. If a large force was discovered they could not afford to linger. The councillors muttered that this was a bad season to wage war, and Elissa was inclined to agree. The frozen ground was more difficult to traverse and food was scarce. If an army could not be fed, it would resort to plundering the land. Thankfully the harvest had been a good one and the winter not too hard, so finding enough food to feed an army would not mean starvation for others. Orders for weapons and armour, food and canvas, flooded from the palace into the city, while existing stores were inspected, supplemented and repaired.

Archery contests were held throughout the city, attended by representatives of the king. That the prize for proficiency was recruitment into the army seemed to deter no one. Youths gathered every morning, with red fingers and breath hanging in the air, clutching old but well cared for bows and hoping to prove themselves. The feats of arms were not restricted to the city. While the council, headed by Anora and Loghain, worked day and night to put the kingdom on a war footing in a very short time, Cailan presided over mock duels. The rewards were higher for those who won here. The victors would act as Cailan's companions on campaign and would ride into battle at his side. If they distinguished themselves there, there was a good change that the king would reward them.

A little over a fortnight after the scouts were dispatched, Elissa and Loghain were woken by a hammering on their door. She jerked awake, eyes flying to the window where a patch of dark sky could be glimpsed through the half closed drapes. It was still night, too early for even the servants to be awake. She fumbled to light a candle, trying to contain the anxious fluttering in her stomach. Whoever was knocking at the door, their message could not be good. People did not rouse teyrns in the middle of the night to tell them that all was well. By the time the candle spurted to life, Loghain had yanked on a pair of trousers and was striding to the door. Hand on the handle, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was covered by the sheet before opening it.

The man in the doorway looked on the brink of collapse. His boots and the hem of his cloak were caked in mud, and he swayed slightly where he stood. He thrust a rolled up piece of paper into Loghain's hands, adding a respectful "My lord" as an afterthought. Loghain unfurled the paper and Elissa did not need to read it to know that it contained bad news. The sudden tension in her husband's shoulders told her everything she needed to know. "Does the king know?" he asked gruffly.

The scout jerked his head. "His Majesty sent me to you."

"Go to the kitchen and get some food," ordered Loghain. "But don't sleep yet. Go to the council chambers as soon as you're done; we may have questions for you."

Nodding, the scout staggered away. Elissa, watching him go, wondered whether he would be coherent enough to answer the councillors. Then the door slammed shut and her attention was drawn back to Loghain and the letter he held. He didn't spare her a glance as he continued to dress but said without preamble, "The sightings have been confirmed. Darkspawn are massing in the south."

"So it is to be war then," she said, a slight hitch in her voice the only sign of the fear that gripped her, sinking its cold fingers under her skin.

"Yes," he said shortly. "You need to dress. I want you at the meeting too."

She complied automatically, her mind veering off onto frightening paths. She had not lived through a war but she had heard horrific stories from those who had. They didn't speak just of bloody battles, but of those who had never wielded a weapon being brutalised and butchered in their own homes. They suffered at the hands of the Orlesians, fellow humans who were meant to possess reason and compassion. If they had inflicted such cruelty, what would mindless monsters be capable of? For all that it made her feel small and selfish, she was grateful that the length of the kingdom separated her family from this threat.

When they arrived at the council chambers she couldn't comprehend Cailan's ill concealed excitement. Everyone else, having been woken at the dead of night to such awful news, looked rather haggard, including the usually immaculately presented Anora. The king, however, grinned around at everyone, talking animatedly about legends and past victories over the darkspawn. His attitude irritated Loghain and Anora as much as it baffled Elissa. A few well chosen words from the queen persuaded Cailan that his presence was more urgently needed elsewhere. He needed to prepare his people, to decide how he would break the news and rally the troops already assembled in the city.

Elissa expected the council to be troubled by the departure of the king at such a crucial moment but they barely seemed to notice, deferring to Anora without question or comment. This, she suspected, was how the royal couple worked. Cailan charmed his people, winning their respect and confidence, while Anora saw to the actual running of the country.

With Cailan gone, everyone turned their attention to the exhausted scout who looked like he was about to slip off his stool. They quizzed him endlessly on the details of his letter. How many darkspawn were there? Were they well armed? Did they show signs of stirring from their current position? Fortunately for the poor man, as the day wore on the other scouts trickled back into the city. He was finally allowed to go to bed as a series of weary and travel worn men and women took his place.

The picture that emerged was both hopeful and worrying. The darkspawn were few in number, although it would still require a small army to defeat them. The worrying news was that this force was likely only a vanguard. Darkspawn might be a constant problem for the dwarves, but they only strayed to the surface during a Blight. If they were indeed facing a Blight more would certainly follow. As such, it was quickly decided that they would not throw the full force of their army at the enemy. "It would be foolish to waste out resources on so small a foe," said Loghain. "We must hold the bulk of our soldiers in readiness for the army that will emerge from the Deep Roads."

They drew up a list of nobles who would be required to provide troops for the first stage of what would almost certainly be a long campaign. Most of them lived close to Denerim. Speed was vital and their soldiers could be assembled faster than any others. She was relieved when her father's name did not appear on the list. Not that his safety would be guaranteed for long; he, along with the others spared from the first round of fighting, would be expected to have their troops ready the moment the king requested them.

After that decision was made, letters to the chosen nobles had to be dictated and dispatched with the utmost speed. There were mounds of paper to pore over as they tried to work out whether the provisions they had already amassed in preparation would be sufficient. When they were short on something, hasty calculations had to be made and messengers dispatched to the market to place urgent orders. They didn't leave the chamber all day, gulping down their meals at the same table where they planned war. The work was relentless, and by the time they finally departed for bed the sky was dark again. Somehow the whole day had passed them by.

In bed Elissa hovered on the verge of sleep. The long day had exhausted her but sleep remained tantalisingly out of reach. Loghain must have been disturbed by her restlessness because he said, "There's no need for you to worry."

She heard the weariness in his voice and felt a twinge of guilt that she was keeping him awake. "Never mind me, go to sleep. Tomorrow will be no easier than today."

Without warning an arm slid beneath her and hoisted her up, depositing her in an undignified sprawl on his chest. "I will mind you," he rumbled in her ear as she pushed her now rumpled hair out of her eyes. "You're frightened and there's no need. Bryce and Fergus don't have a place in this battle; they won't come to harm at Highever."

"And what about you?" she demanded. "Are you going to tell me you're in no danger on a battlefield?"

There was a brief silence in which she wondered whether he had fallen asleep, then he tilted her face to his and captured her lips in a kiss that was almost sweet. When they parted she opened her mouth to speak but he cut across her before she could begin. "Would you like to go to Highever?"

"Highever? _Why?_"

"I thought you might feel more comfortable with your family while I'm away."

For a moment the temptation was almost overwhelming. This was the longest she had ever gone without seeing her family. Orin seemed to grow overnight so he probably would have spurted up since the summer. Fergus would have to think about beginning his martial training soon. She imagined herself playing a part in it, teaching him to wield a dagger as quickly and effectively as his father would teach him to swing a sword.

She shook herself from her domestic fantasy and said, "No. My home is here now. I won't leave it because the next few weeks will be hard. But," she found his hand and kissed it before placing it on her waist, "thank you for asking."

"If you change your mind..." he began, voice now thick with sleep.

"I won't," she said firmly.

* * *

More than a week later, Elissa was awake to see the sun rise on the morning of the army's departure. Born after the expulsion of the Orlesians, she had never seen her parents march to battle. There had been skirmishes over the years, some of which she had been involved in. They were largely with bandits, ill equipped and poorly organised men who attacked travellers or villagers on Cousland land. She had never feared losing a loved one to them.

She rose before Loghain and dressed quickly, creeping from the room to summon the food and hot water she had ordered to be made ready the night before. By the time Loghain woke a hot, scented bath awaited him. She had no illusions about the state of cleanliness in an army marching to battle. He wouldn't have a chance to bathe properly until he returned to the palace. While he washed she talked determinedly about anything other than darkspawn. Once he had been lathered and rinsed she directed him to a seat by the fire and presented him with a breakfast of his favourite foods. He looked down at the plate and raised his eyebrows. "You're being suspiciously nice to me."

"I am choosing not to be insulted by that."

"Then I know something is wrong."

"Can I not treat my husband well on the morning he marches to war?" she said tartly.

"So that's it," he said, setting his breakfast aside. "You are worried."

"Is that wrong?"

"No, but I'm no unblooded whelp riding off to my first battle. Neither is this the worst opponent I've ever faced."

"This is different," she said heatedly. "This is not a human foe."

"A blow from my sword will still kill them."

Seeing that she wasn't comforted, he beckoned her over and gestured for her to sit on the arm of the chair. He hadn't dressed after the bath and wore only a towel, leaving his chest and arms bare. He took her hands and directed them to trace the many scars that littered his skin. "What do these tell you?" he asked quietly.

"That you have been hurt."

"That I have survived."

She was not comforted by the physical evidence of the many times he had been wounded. But she hoped the scars served as a reminder to him that he was human, and just as likely to fall to a blade as a darkspawn. To most of Ferelden he was a hero, more symbol than man, and sometimes she wondered if he believed the myth of his invulnerability. "Be safe."

His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. "I will do whatever Ferelden requires of me."

"I expect nothing less. I am merely requesting that you attempt to avoid impalement on sword or arrow. I will be most displeased if an army of darkspawn arrives at Denerim bearing your head on a pike."

"I must leave before your honeyed words entice me to stay," he said drily. Brushing her hair away from her face, he pulled her into a slow, tender kiss that she found far more reassuring than anything he had said. Surely, she reasoned, the embrace would have been more intense if he thought he might never return.

After he had devoured his breakfast she helped him into his armour. She handled it carefully, almost reverently. Loghain would have rolled his eyes if he had realised, but she didn't care. She knew the history of the armour, what the sight of it meant to the people of Ferelden. When he was equipped she straightened out her gown and donned a cloak, ready to bid him farewell at the city gates.

At the palace doors Elissa straightened her back and banished any sign of doubt from her face. She would not show her fear to the people of the city, whose loved ones were marching off to an uncertain fate. In the courtyard she found Anora magnificently attired. The queen had chosen not to wear her crown, but her rich, fur lined cloak and the jewels gleaming at her neck screamed wealth and power. She would hold the reigns of the kingdom while Cailan was at war, and she wanted to make it clear to any opportunists who might use her husband's absence to grasp at power that she would not relinquish an inch of her control.

There was only a small force at the palace doors consisting entirely of nobles, the men and women who would take charge of the soldiers and act as Cailan's companions on the road. The bulk of their force, which they would join now, waited outside the city gates.

Elissa held her breath as she hoisted herself onto her mount. She had made no attempt to improve her horsemanship since their arrival in Denerim, and she had never tried to learn the art of riding whilst wearing a cumbersome gown. Today of all days she dreaded becoming entangled in her skirts and tumbling into the dirt. Though she did not manage it with Anora's grace, she lifted herself onto the horse without mishap. As they began to move, she found her horse to be a placid animal, barely needing any guidance from her. Silently she thanked whoever had noticed her nervous riding and arranged such a tranquil animal for her.

The streets, to her surprise, were not lined with unhappy, strained faces. She was supposed that was partly due to the stream of money that had poured from the palace over the past few weeks. People had profited from the king's need for food and supplies, and for those merchants and smiths who were following the army the gold would continue to flow. But there was no doubt that his people's ease was largely thanks to Cailan. In his golden armour he looked like he had stepped out of a legend. He smiled at everyone around him, the tension in his frame clearly born of an eagerness to depart rather than fear. The people gathered to watch their progress responded to him warmly, greeting his smiles with cheers. In comparison to the rebellion of thirty years ago this was a simple battle against an enemy that was small in number and indisputably evil. To many it must have seemed that victory was already assured for their golden king.

Outside the gates the king and queen dismounted and one of the councillors hurried forwards bearing a richly carved box. It contained the king's seal, used on every charter and pronouncement issued from the palace. "While I am absent, the queen will rule in my stead," called Cailan loudly enough for everyone assembled to hear. This was largely for the benefit of those councillors who were remaining at the palace. There was no question that the people would except Anora, daughter of their hero, as their ruler, but the more ambitious members of the council might seek to extend its power.

While Cailan launched into a speech, Elissa's eyes slid to Loghain to find that he was watching her too. She wondered whether he was weighing her up. After all, she would assume his power just as Anora would step into Cailan's role. Did he have faith in her or did he worry she would crumble? Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because he frowned and raised his hand pointedly. For a moment, uncomprehending, she just stared at him. Then she realised that beneath the gauntlet he wore the ring of their combined devices. She pressed her hand to her chest, laying her palm flat against her pendant where it lay hidden beneath her cloak. He nodded infinitesimally and she smiled widely, grateful for this reminder that he did indeed have faith in her. She strove to contain her grin, aware that it was inappropriate when her husband was riding to war, but it was difficult when Loghain's lips were twitching too.

She hastily returned her gaze to the king and queen and realised that she had missed something important. The seal had been passed into Anora's hands, and Cailan was drawing his speech to a close. "I do not doubt that my wife will be a wise and good queen, and that our councillors will support the decisions she makes on my behalf."

Anora sank into a deep curtsey. "I will not disappoint my king."

Cailan smiled brilliantly at her before mounting his horse again. Anora, after passing the seal back to the councillor, did the same. The king signalled and someone nearby blew a horn sharply. It was the sign to move out: Cailan trotted away first, flanked by Loghain and his chosen companions, then the rest of the army gradually moved after them.

As she watched the army disappear, despite all of Loghain's assurances Elissa couldn't help but wonder whether her marriage would end before it could truly begin.


	11. A Failed Attempt

Elissa dreaded the coming days. Never before had she remained behind, safe, while someone she cared for left to fight an enemy. She envisioned long hours spent straining to hear the clatter of a messenger's horse, even longer nights spent in sleepless imaginings of the terrible things that could have befallen Loghain. This last prediction quickly came true. No matter how exhausted she was, the absence of his solid form kept her from sleep, made her wonder where he was and whether he was resting easily.

She quickly discovered that during the day there was simply no time to worry. Surprisingly, Gwaren's affairs didn't demand much of her attention. The seneschal ruled it based on orders left by Loghain, sending reports monthly unless something urgent demanded the teyrn's attention. What took up most of her time, and taxed her patience and energy to their limits, were the council meetings she attended daily.

The council might accept Anora's authority, but the same was not true for Elissa. She was young and unknown, having been kept away from court by her parents, and every day the councillors fought against her presence amongst them. It was never obvious. Loghain might be absent, but they still feared him too much to risk rousing his anger. Instead there was an undercurrent of hostility and constant, subtle attempts to undermine her.

She couldn't look to the queen for support. How could Elissa be trusted to shoulder a teyrna's responsibilities if she could not defend herself? If she wanted the respect of the councillors, she would have to earn it herself.

Matters came to a head three days after the army's departure when Lowell, a powerful bann from the west, presented what amounted to an outright challenge. As servants cleared away the remnants of their midday meal, he turned to address the queen. "Your Majesty," he began, his voice loud enough to carry across the table. "You must be worried about leaving your father's affairs in Gwaren untended while he's at war. I would be happy to mind matters on his behalf."

Around the table the councillors stirred, eyes flying to Anora in anticipation. She might have left Elissa to deal with the problem so far, but such a brazen insult to her father's chosen teyrna could not be tolerated. Elissa saw the queen's lips compress, her back straighten almost imperceptibly, as she prepared to dismiss the challenge. Catching Anora's eye, she gave a minute shake of her head. Puzzlement showed briefly in the queen's eyes before she nodded and sat back, allowing Elissa to take the lead.

Elissa suppressed a grin. A direct challenge was almost a relief; unlike the snide, half heard comments, she could respond to this directly. Turning to Lowell with a sweet smile, she said, "That is _ever _so kind of you, Bann Lowell, but Gwaren is governed by its teyrna."

"My dear," he said with a condescending smirk, "such an undertaking requires an experienced, steady hand."

She could have pointed out that she was the daughter of Fergus Cousland, trained from the cradle to govern a teyrnir, but she did not have to justify herself to him. She adopted the tone she would have used on a child trying to wield an adult's sword rather than its wooden training weapon. "Running a teyrnir is quite different from running a bannorn, Lowell. I'm afraid you lack the necessary experience."

Again she had to bite back a smile as she realised there was another card she could play. The hours spent with the queen's ladies had not been a complete waste of time; the careful listener could find useful information in their unceasing gossip. Among them it was common knowledge that Lowell's wife used the hours he spent in lengthy council sessions to dally with men beneath her station, court musicians and mercenary knights.

"Besides," Elissa continued, arranging her features into an expression of deep concern, "I couldn't possibly burden you with more responsibility after speaking to Mathilde. She sees so little of you and, for all that she loves her music and other little amusements, they cannot completely distract her."

Lowell paled as realisation dawned in his eyes. He sat back, mumbling his thanks for her concern. The other councillors, who had never spent a day in the company of the queen's ladies, exchanged confused glances, unsure what had happened but aware that Elissa had somehow won a victory.

When Anora looked at her, however, the gleam in her eyes was positively wicked. "Well said, Elissa," she said neutrally. "Lowell's offer was indeed thoughtful, but my father could have picked no one better than you to oversee Gwaren."

Long after darkness had fallen, when the council session finally drew to a close, Elissa reached her chambers with gratitude. She collapsed into a chair while Meryl fussed around her. After several weeks in her new position Meryl seemed to be gaining confidence, so that she felt perfectly comfortable in scolding Elissa lightly. "You'll make yourself ill, my lady," she said, sliding a tray of food onto the table. "Stuck in that room all day, and probably without a bite to eat."

Elissa tucked into the game pie with as much haste as courtesy allowed, fervently thankful that the custom of eating as a household had been suspended until the king's return. "Someone brought something in at midday," she said after swallowing a mouthful of pastry.

Meryl looked sceptical but made no comment. Instead she changed tactic. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but I'm sure that Teyrn Loghain wouldn't want you to strain yourself so."

"Exhaustion is a small price to pay to maintain a voice on the council, I'm certain."

Meryl pursed her lips and looked very much as if she wished to argue, but at that moment there was a peremptory knock on the door and Anora swept in. "Sit, sit," she said, waving Elissa back into her seat when she began to rise. "This is just a brief visit to inform you that the council will not be meeting tomorrow."

"Why?" asked Elissa, alarmed.

"I have arranged a hunt instead."

"A _hunt_? Considering the circumstances, is that appropriate?"

"Entirely," said Anora firmly. "Nothing could be better than for the people to see us carefree and confident."

Elissa raised her eyebrows, sceptical. If loved ones of hers had marched to war, seeing the queen and her nobles cavorting would be a slap in the face. But she had to concede that Anora and Cailan knew the people of Denerim far better than she could ever hope to, and so far they had not misjudged the mood of the city.

"I can count on you joining us, then?" said Anora, seeing her silent acquiescence.

"Of course."

So it was that the next morning found Meryl helping Elissa struggle into her uncomfortable riding gown. She had wanted to wear breeches but Meryl persuaded her against it, insisting that all the women of the court wore the cumbersome dresses on such occasions.

Stomach churning, Elissa refused breakfast. Last night she had been relieved at the prospect of a break from the council, but anxiety came with the dawn. She _never _hunted. She could barely keep her seat on a stationary horse, let alone one racing across rough terrain. Perhaps Anora would overlook convention and allow her to ride at the rear of the party, with the elderly dowagers.

As the servants were accompanying them, Meryl followed Elissa to the courtyard. The servants would follow at a more sedate pace to prepare the midday meal at a prearranged place. They would also, no doubt, have the unpleasant task of hauling the felled game back to the palace. Despite the prospect of a messy, tiring day Meryl seemed in high spirits, happy for the break from her usual routine and a chance to speak to her friends. Unwilling to ruin her mood, Elissa held her tongue and plastered a smile on her face until Meryl peeled away to join the other servants.

Elissa's spirits sank as Anora waved her over, but abruptly rose again when she saw the mount that had been prepared for her. It was the same placid horse she had ridden to the city gates only a few days earlier. She would have an easy ride after all. The smile she greeted the queen with was genuine.

"A fine morning for a hunt, is it not?" said Anora.

"Being no expert, I will defer to your majesty's judgement."

"Surely you're being modest," said Anora, arching an eyebrow. "There is no better place to hunt in the entire kingdom than Highever."

"That might be true, your majesty, but I'm not a natural rider and usually avoid such sport."

"Well no one will expect any great feats from you today," said Anora. "With the kingdom's two most powerful men at war, no one will want the two most powerful women to risk their lives. At most, they will expect you to look decorous."

Elissa thought that even this much would be beyond her, but before she had the chance to say so Anora spotted someone and moved away to speak to them. Alone, Elissa glanced around discretely. The mood was buoyant, everyone talking and laughing as they waited for the signal to depart. As far as she could tell, no one was paying her the slightest attention. This would be a good time to mount her horse, while everyone was too preoccupied to notice any embarrassing slips or scrambles.

She reached out to grasp the pommel. The moment her fingers brushed its fur, the horse's demeanour changed entirely. It made a noise she had never heard before; a shriek of anger and fear. It reared, its front hooves lashing out wildly. All around her people were shouting and scrambling to avoid a deadly strike from its hooves. For a moment, that seemed like an eternity to Elissa, she stood frozen with shock. It was Anora's voice, imperious and commanding while everyone else panicked, that roused her. "Don't stand there, fools!" the queen ordered._"Help her!" _

Elissa sprang into action, ducking a kick that would have cracked her skull. The movement put her off balance, and when she tried to regain her footing she became entangled in her cumbersome skirts. Arms wheeling frantically, she fell backwards and her head collided with something solid. A sickening pain radiated from the spot. The voices around her seemed to recede, and the world swam in and out of focus until she was plunged entirely into darkness.

When she next opened her eyes it was to find that she had been moved. Someone had picked her up and placed her in bed. The same person, she quickly discovered, had stripped off her restrictive gown and replaced it with a nightdress. She tried to sit but fell back with a groan. Her back and legs throbbed as if someone had pummelled them while she slept. At her moaning, a face appeared above her. It disappeared quickly, reappearing after a few seconds with a candle. Now she could see that it was Meryl, her face clouded with worry.

"Are you alright, my lady?" she asked in a hushed voice, as if speaking to someone deathly ill.

"Perfectly fine," said Elissa, giving away her lie a moment later when she tried to rise and gasped in pain. "A little sore," she conceded through gritted teeth.

"I'm so glad, my lady. The healer said you'd make a full recovery, but you were still so pale. Oh!" she cried suddenly. "I must fetch the queen! I promised I'd tell her the moment you woke up."

"A moment, Meryl!" said Elissa, reaching out for the servant, but Meryl was already gone. Elissa was left to struggle, biting her lip to stop herself whimpering, into a sitting position. By the time she managed it, Meryl had returned with the queen. Anora took a seat by the bed while Meryl, now carrying a small box, stood cringing by the door.

"I must confess that I'm relieved to see you awake and well," said Anora, a small smile tugging at her lips. "My father would be quite furious with me if you came to harm."

"His confidence in me will be completely erased, I'm afraid," said Elissa, only half joking. "Away for less than a week and I'm thrown from a horse and nearly trampled."

"Ah," said Anora. "That is what I wish to speak to you about. I don't believe your accident, as we will call it for the time being, was due to your ineptitude as a rider. Meryl!" She beckoned the servant forwards. Meryl all but ran to the bed and dropped the box onto the blankets, backing away with an unmistakeable air of relief at being free of her burden. Elissa looked at her strangely, unable to fathom her behaviour, until she reached out to open the box. As soon as her fingers brushed the lid, she was overcome with anger. She lashed out, sending the box flying to the ground. The lid opened and something spilled out onto the carpet.

"I should have warned you," said Anora mildly. "It can have that effect if you're unprepared."

"What is it?" asked Elissa, horrified at her outburst, while Meryl, looking like she wanted to cry, darted forwards to scoop the thing back into its box. She thrust it at Elissa, who was this time prepared for the sudden surge of violent emotions. Mastering herself, she peered into the box. There was a small stone, little more than a pebble, its surface covered with incomprehensible scratchings. It had been split cleanly down the middle, and from the core came a faint red glow.

"It was found on the ground, near to where you were thrown," said Anora quietly. "We believe someone placed it on your horse."

"To what end?" asked Elissa.

Anora looked at her steadily. "I would have thought that was obvious."

Elissa gave a small nod, her eyes turning reluctantly back to the stone. She didn't know what it was, or how it worked, but the malice radiating from it was unmistakeable. Someone wanted to hurt her.

"It's magical, that much is clear," said Anora when Elissa continued to say nothing. "But as to its true nature... I am no mage. I have sent messengers to the Tower requesting their assistance. In the mean time, we are holding someone in the dungeon who, we believe, had a hand in this."

"Who?" asked Elissa, losing interest in the stone at this fresh information.

"No one of significance. A stable boy was caught trying to flee. The guard captain believes, as do I, that he was paid to place that," she eyed the stone with distaste, "on your horse, but he won't give up the name of his master."

All information imparted, Anora seemed to grow uncomfortable. "You shouldn't concern yourself with this now," she said suddenly. She held open the box and waited for Elissa to drop the stone inside. Once it was safe in its container, she slammed the lid shut and passed it to an unhappy Meryl.

As Anora rose to leave, Elissa thought she glimpsed a coolness in the queen's expression. It was almost as if she had offended the queen, but she doubted she had managed to do that while unconscious. Perhaps it was the strain of the situation. An attack on a teyrna was not likely to inspire confidence, and keeping the faith of the people was imperative. As Anora left the room, and Elissa lowered herself gingerly back onto the pillows, she put the queen's coldness out of her mind.

* * *

The mages arrived before the week was out. There were three of them: a tall, greying man called Gwydion and two elves, barely adults, introduced not by name but as "my apprentices" by Gwydion. They were accompanied by a single templar who was clearly ill at ease with having sole responsibility for three mages outside of the Tower. His fingers constantly flexed around the hilt of his sword, and not once did Elissa see his eyes leave his charges. She wondered angrily what kind of fool had chosen the man for this job. One wrong move from any of the mages and, she feared, the result would be a bloodbath.

Anora clearly felt the same for she nodded at the templar and said, "You can wait outside while we talk."

"I cannot, your Majesty, I must-"

"Obey your queen," said Anora imperiously.

The templar flinched and for a moment Elissa thought he would obey Anora's order. Then he seemed to stiffen and his mouth set in a grim, determined line. "With respect, your Majesty, I take my orders from Knight Commander Greagoir. I must remain here for your safety."

Elissa almost winced. He was brave, she had to admit, but undoubtedly foolish. Anora's eyes narrowed a fraction. "I am not going to argue with you," she said coldly. "Leave now or my guards will carry you out. Be grateful I am offering you a choice."

The templar's eyes darted to the guards posted along the wall. They had not moved, or even glanced in his direction, but there was a sudden tension in the air as they waited for Anora's order. Templars might have certain advantages over mages, but one alone stood little chance against six heavily armed men. Seeming to realise this, the templar allowed his hand to fall from his sword hilt, bowed stiffly and left the room. The apprentices watched the whole exchange with barely concealed glee. No doubt they were not used to seeing templars overruled and dismissed.

"Now," said Anora, turning her eyes to Gwydion, "to the point. I apologise for rushing you here but the matter is urgent." She crooked her finger at a guard and he stepped forwards, bearing the box that contained the stone. He set it down on a table and backed away quickly. "I would like to know what you make of this," said Anora, nodding at the box.

Wearing a puzzled frown, Gwydion approached the table. The closer he came, the graver his look became. "What is this?" he murmured, hand hovering over the lid.

"That is what you're here to tell me," said Anora. "All we know is that it is dangerous."

"That much I can tell." He hesitated, as if steeling himself, before unlatching the lid and throwing it back. Reaching inside, he pulled out the broken stone. He held it in the palm of his hand, studying it closely. As the seconds passed he seemed to lose some of his trepidation, curiosity taking its place. There was a full five minutes of silence, punctuated only by Gwydion's murmured, unintelligible musings, before he motioned to one of his apprentices. "Come and tell me what you think," he called to her. "Not you!" he added quickly as the boy made to follow.

He held the stone out for the girl to see, making a sharp noise as she reached out to touch it. "Just look," he said sternly.

The girl did as he bade her. "It's crude," she said immediately.

He smiled approvingly. "Correct." He turned to address Anora. "As a rule, mages are ostentatious. Most would choose something grander than a pebble to imbue with their magic."

"It's not just the container," the girl said quietly, brow creasing delicately as she leaned in closer. "There's no skill to this. Someone has just forced their magic into it."

"It's powerful, nonetheless." There was a warning note in Gwydion's voice that made the apprentice's eyes snap up to meet his. He nodded curtly and she backed away, resuming her former place.

"May I enquire where this was found, your Majesty?" said Gwydion.

"It was used in an assassination attempt. It was placed on the target's horse, which went wild when she touched it. Fortunately, she survived the attempt unharmed."

"That was indeed fortunate. If the mage who created this had the slightest notion of what they were doing..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "The stone was imbued with a spell designed to induce a frenzy of rage. Well, to call it a spell is not entirely accurate. There was no design in this: the mage merely forced their magic to do their will. That's why the stone – and the spell along with it – broke. A crude method, as my apprentice noted, but still powerful. I could feel the residual magic from across the room. I assume you have captured the mage?"

"We have the accomplice – one of the palace stable boys," said Anora.

Gwydion raised his eyebrows. "Have you considered that he might be your mage?"

For the first time in the unusual meeting Anora looked unsettled. "He is only a boy, barely fifteen."

"Youth would account for the clumsiness of the spell, and if left untrained young mages can be quite lethal. May I speak to him, your Majesty?"

"I hope you're not thinking of taking him for the Tower," said Anora harshly. "If your guess is correct, he tried to commit murder."

"You said yourself, your Majesty, that he is little more than a boy. He can have no personal motive for wishing to harm a member of the royal household. Someone must have bribed or coerced him into helping with the plot."

"So I am to let him go free?" demanded Anora. "Whether he was the architect or not, he has still committed a crime."

"Wouldn't you prefer to capture the instigator of the plan?"

"Of course, but so far the boy has refused to name any accomplices."

Gwydion paused, thoughtful. "Perhaps he fears for his safety," he said contemplatively. "If we offered him a safe haven-"

"Such as the Circle Tower?" said Anora sharply.

"Yes, the Tower, your Majesty. If I could get him to reveal his master's name, would you allow me to take him to the Tower?"

The queen fell silent, searching Gwydion's earnest face. "I would consider it," she said finally.

Gwydion's face broke into a large smile. "Thank you, your Majesty! You won't regret this."

Anora pursed her lips. "I will reserve judgement on that." She motioned to one of the guards. "Captain, please escort the mages to see our prisoner. The rest of your men can wait outside while we dine."

The room emptied but for Elissa, Anora and the few servants who arrived within minutes bearing their meal. When the servants left, an icy atmosphere sprang up between the two women. It had been the same since the day of the hunt; Anora could not seem to stand being in Elissa's company, and avoided her whenever she could. Elissa was baffled, completely at a loss as to what she had done to warrant such animosity.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable, almost hostile, silence over their food. Elissa hadn't felt so ill at ease in the queen's company since her first few days at the palace. Unable to bear it, she took a guess at what was bothering the queen and began hesitantly, "I'm sure the mage will find whoever is behind this. A new life in the Tower in a good inducement for the boy."

"I have no doubt," said Anora, eyes on her plate.

Elissa paused briefly before trying again. "Are you worried for Cailan and Loghain? They-"

"My father is a warrior of legend and Cailan, whatever his faults, is not unskilled with a blade," interrupted Anora. "I have no fear for them."

"Forgive me, your Majesty, but you seem preoccupied," Elissa persisted.

"I'm afraid that you are the reason for my... preoccupation, as you call it. I am sorry to say," said Anora, sounding far from sorry, "that I have not been entirely truthful with you. Well, I haven't lied, but I have withheld some rather important information from you. When you were injured-"

Her words were lost as the doors were thrown open with a resounding crash. Gwydion strode into the room, his face a mask of fury. Elissa started from her seat as she saw that his hands were covered in blood, fingers twitching towards weapons that weren't there and would be no defence against a mage.

"Despicable," he seethed. "How could you – just a boy – "

There was a great clattering and a dozen guards, led by the templar, raced into the room. "I warned you!" he snarled, voice oddly triumphant. "You can't leave mages unguarded, not even for a moment." He unsheathed his sword.

"Stop!" The apprentice who had been called forth to examine the stone appeared in the doorway. Even though she was younger, and smaller, than anyone else in the room, her ringing command held them all motionless for a few seconds. She took advantage of the momentary pause to place herself between the templar and Gwydion, who was staring at the queen with cold hatred. "He has done nothing wrong," said the apprentice.

"I beg to differ," said Anora, composed as ever even when confronted with a furious mage.

"He has performed no magic," persisted the apprentice, addressing herself to the templar rather than Anora. "No one has been hurt."

"I would say his intention is clear," said the templar, looking over her shoulder at Gwydion. "Now move."

"No," said the apprentice with a firmness startling in one so young. "You can't kill a mage for losing his temper."

"People die when your kind lose control!" he snarled.

"_No one has been hurt_," she repeated. "The Knight Commander doesn't like templars who are too eager to wet their blades. What will he do when he discovers that you killed Gwydion while he was in full control of his magic? I promise you, unless you intend to slay me too, he _will _find out."

This made the templar pause.

"The mage trespassed into my private chambers and insulted me," interjected Anora coolly. "If the Tower does not intend to punish him, I will."

The templar didn't answer for a long moment, staring at the apprentice. Even from across the room Elissa could sense his assessment of her. The girl met his gaze unflinchingly, rigid body not swaying an inch. Finally he said, "I will leave his judgement to my superiors. Rest assured, your Majesty, that he will not go unpunished."

"Captain," said Anora sharply, addressing the head guard, "choose several of your most trustworthy men. They will escort the templar and his charges back to the Tower, and remain there until justice is done. I expect them to depart within the hour."

"Right away, your Majesty." Turning to the templar he said, "You heard the queen: move."

They marched from the room, templar and the guards keeping their blades in hand. "Just a moment, apprentice," called Anora as the girl made to follow. She stopped and turned to face the queen, eyeing her with as much dislike as her master had. "What happened?" demanded Anora.

"We did as you asked, your Majesty. We went to question the boy. We found him dead in his cell, his throat cut." Without waiting for Anora's permission, she turned on her heel and strode from the room.


End file.
